Blessed
by Shai Nevermore
Summary: All Codi wanted was to train race horses, like her father. The last thing she wanted was for her precious, promising filly to become a war horse. Well, next to last. She never wanted to be a warrior, either.TristanOC
1. Chapter One

"Just keep him at a nice, easy canter all the way around," Codi's father instructed, squinting up at her. "Give him a workout, but don't kill him, alright? Codi? Codi. Earth to Codi Morgan Ross--"

"What? Sorry, Dad." Codi jumped slightly in the saddle and blushed. "Sorry," she repeated.

Her father frowned. "What's wrong? You've been spacing out all day."

Cody looked down. "It's nothing."

"It's those girls again, isn't it?" he said, scowling. "What do they have against you, anyway?"

"They're just pissed off that a _freshman_ is on the team—and beating them," Codi said, half proud of her success on the college track team and half depressed about the consequences of that success. "They wouldn't have a problem with me if I wasn't on their team. Which is dumb, because I help the team win. Stupid cows."

"You shouldn't let them get to you," her father told her sternly. "They're just petty, jealous, catty little girls who need to grow up."

"I know, Dad," Codi sighed. "It's just—they're so horrible. The other day they wrote 'spank me' on my shorts with a Sharpie right before a meet. And then all the guys saw it and started trying to smack my ass."

"What?" her father cried, outraged. "I'm going to call your coach. That's completely out of line--"

"Dad," Codi groaned. "That'll just make it worse."

"You can't just let them walk all over you," he protested. "Codi, you've got to stand up for yourself."

"I know, I know," Codi muttered, and headed out on Moondancer, a promising gray filly her father was training for the Sheridans, who owned the farm Codi and her father lived and worked on. The Sheridans had been in horse racing for generations and the farm, nestled in the hills of West Virginia, reflected it. Although Codi adored track and planned to pursue a minor in Linguistics, she knew her life would revolve around horses, just as her father's did. She would probably train horses—at five foot five inches, she was really too tall to be a jockey unless she dieted all the time or threw up everything she ate to compensate for extra pounds of muscle. Which she wasn't going to do—she liked food too much.

As she rode, Codi's mind returned to the Evils, as she thought of the five upperclassmen bitches from hell who made her life so miserable. She shared three of her four events with them—two were high jumpers and three were long and triple jumpers. Thankfully, none of them ran the high hurtles, which was her best event. Codi attended the local community college even though she'd been offered positions and a few scholarships at more prestigious schools. She wanted to stay close to home—and to her horses. Codi grinned. It seemed only fair that she run as much as her horses did. Moondancer was lucky she didn't have to deal with horses becoming jealous of her and pulling stupid pranks.

Before long, the fresh spring air and cool breeze drew Codi out of her depression. Moondancer was a joy to ride, and loved to run. She was Codi's personal favorite, for she had been present at Dancer's birth and had all but raised her herself. Codi smiled, remembering the dapple gray's first, wobbly steps. She'd grown so much in just two years! Soon she'd start racing and Codi just knew her filly would blow all the competition out of the water. Dancer was a big, strong, athletic animal and was already beating her male age-mates in training. Codi was proud of her.

As they came out of the woods, Codi frowned, seeing that the sky had grown overcast. Odd, she thought, stripping dark brown hair away from her face. The wind had picked up as well. It had been sunny when she left the barn. Codi shrugged and tried to ignore her growing unease. But Moondancer was bothered as well. She snorted and tossed her head, trying to break into a gallop. Codi calmed her as best she could and looked at the sky again. It wouldn't rain anytime soon, she decided, but the wind had turned decidedly chill.

As she came over a hill, Codi slowly eased Moondancer to a stop and stared. Where was the lake? She was sure she hadn't taken a wrong turn in the woods—there was only one other trail and she had definitely not turned onto it. So where was the lake that had been there for all her nineteen years—that had been there just yesterday? Lakes did not dry up in the space of twenty something hours. Nor did they get up and walk away.

Moondancer, sensing her rider's agitation, began to fidget and prance. Codi soothed her with a gentle hand and turned back toward the woods, thinking to retrace her steps and find where she went wrong. But she was _sure_ she hadn't turned onto the other trail—and that trail led into town, anyway. She hadn't left the trail, either. So what the hell had happened?

Codi slowed once more when she reached the tree line. The path was gone. She rode up and down the edge of the forest three times before stopping and staring around in baffled silence. Something was seriously, seriously wrong. She'd never gotten lost before. Not once, not even when she was younger. Codi bit her lip and tried not to panic. Find help, she thought. There must be someone—there were plenty of farms near hers.

Codi rode away from the woods at a canter, trying to ignore the tight, queasy feeling her stomach and keep Moondancer in check. She was picking up on Codi's nervousness and was becoming upset herself. Neither horse nor rider was reassured when they had seen no sign of civilization and no familiar landmarks in the twenty minutes they'd been riding. Even the mountains were different, Codi realized. This was not right. This could not be happening. Even if she had somehow gotten off the trail, there was no way that the mountains themselves would have changed.

Feeling tears threaten, she pulled Moondancer to a stop and swung off her back. Knowing that Moondancer was far too well mannered to wander off, Codi walked a few yards away and proceeded to throw the biggest temper tantrum she had ever thrown in her life.

"What the fuck is going on?" she shouted at the sky. "Where am I? Where the hell is my farm?"

With a wordless scream of rage, Codi threw her brown jacket on the ground and started jumping up and down on top of it, cursing extensively. Then she threw herself down and sobbed into the grass. Dancer, curious about the odd noises her rider was making, whuffled into Codi's hair in a questioning sort of way. Codi sat up and wiped her eyes. She didn't usually lose control like that—normally, she was rather shy and reserved. She didn't like drawing attention to herself. But she did feel somewhat better for venting.

"Sorry, Dancer-girl," she muttered, then sighed. "We're sure as shit not in Kansas anymore."

Dancer nickered and bobbed her head, as if agreeing. Smiling weakly, Codi sniffed and swung back into the saddle just as a company of riders came into view. With a cry of relief, she started towards them, only to stop again as they kicked their horses into a gallop—and they didn't look like they were rushing to help her. Losing any semblance of control, Codi wheeled Dancer around and let her loose.

Dancer fairly flew away from their pursuers—running after all, was what she was bred to do. But when Codi glanced back, she saw three crossbows pointing straight at her. Her heart turned cold. She hadn't really given much thought to why they were chasing her, but it had never crossed her mind that her life was at stake. Grimly, Codi turned Dancer as sharply as she dared, taking cover briefly behind a group of boulders. She managed to hold them off for all of five minutes before they got her.

Dancer was still going strong, but one of them got lucky with his crossbow. Codi felt the arrow graze her arm. She cried out and, in her shock, lost her balance just as Dancer swerved to avoid a rock. With a yell of surprise and fright, Codi tumbled out of the saddle. She hit the ground with an explosion of pain and knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

Muchas gracias for all the super wonderful reviews! Be forewarned: 1) chapter sizes will vary considerably 2) updates will be pretty regular until we come to the end of what I have already written, and then they'll start to be a little fewer and farther between.

OH! Track (track and field) is a sport--i'm surprised they don't have it in England--centered around races (long distance and short distance--and hurtles) and field events. Field events include jumping (high jump, long jump, triple jump, polevault) and throwing (discus, javeline, shotput). I myself am a high, long, and triple jumper and I might try hurtles this year just for kicks. Anywho, on to the story!

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Tristan frowned and knelt beside the girl. He hadn't meant for her to hit her head when she fell. Satisfied that she was alive, he looked her over curiously. She looked young—sixteen, perhaps—with creamy skin and soft pink lips. Dark brown hair had come partially loose from its braid. She wore the oddest clothing...some sort of black, short-sleeved tunic decorated with odd runes and symbols. Her leggings were dark blue, which wasn't unheard of, but the material was completely foreign to him, as was the cut. They were tight from the waist to the knee, where the material became looser. He couldn't help but notice how they accentuated the gentle curve of her hips—just enough to show she was female, which was strange in itself. Only her boots looked familiar, and even they were slightly strange.

"Will she live?" Arthur asked, dismounting and kneeling beside him.

"I believe so," Tristan said. "She should wake up soon. If she doesn't, then we may need to worry."

"I've never seen her like," Arthur said with a frown. "A woman in leggings is strange enough...but this is completely unlike anything I've seen."

"What I want to know is why she ran from us and what she was doing out here in the first place," Tristan replied grimly.

"And where she got her horse," Gawain added, riding up with the rest of their company. "Speedy little she-devil."

Tristan looked at the dapple gray filly that Galahad led. Her sides were heaving and she was lathered in sweat, but she looked ready to take off again as soon as she was given the chance. He was about the get up to inspect the horse's strange looking tack when the girl began to stir. He looked down into wide, confused looking eyes that couldn't seem to decide whether they wanted to be blue or gray set in a thin, fairy like face. She mumbled something and put a hand to her head.

"How do you fare, lass?" Arthur asked kindly. The girl merely frowned and closed her eyes. Arthur shot a glance at Tristan. "Should we wake her?"

"Not just yet," Tristan said after a moment's consideration. "We should get her back to the fort as quickly as possible."

Arthur nodded. "Ride ahead and let Jols know to prepare a room for her. Gawain—come, set her in front of you. She needs care."

"Wake her in an hour or so," Tristan instructed. "And try not to joggle her too much."

As they rode, Gawain wondered where the girl had come from. Despite her unconscious, relaxed state, he could tell that the whip-thin form he was holding was solid muscle. No Briton girl would fit that description. A Woad would—but that was unlikely. He'd been fighting Woads for ten years and he'd never seen any dress like this one.

Once or twice she stirred and muttered restlessly, but Gawain tightened his hold and wondered what would happen if she woke up. No doubt she would be terrified. In an hour, they woke her up and waited for hysterics. She stared around confusedly for a few moments, muttered something in a strange tongue, and closed her eyes once more. The knights looked at each other, shrugged, and continued on. When they reached the fort at Hadrian's Wall, Jols was waiting for them along with several serving women. They gently took the girl and bore her away into the castle.

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When Codi woke up, she found herself in a bed with the curtains drawn tight around it. But my bed doesn't have curtains on it, she thought dazedly, then shot upright—and instantly regretted it. Laying back slowly, she remembered finding the lake gone and being chased—and the arrow. But what next? Codi searched her memory, but only found vague, blurred images of dirty, hairy men and garbled, echo-y words. She thought she remembered being on a horse. Maybe.

Getting up slowly this time, she pulled the curtains aside and saw that it was morning. Sunlight streamed in from the window from which she could see a bustling Medieval town—wait a minute, bustling Medieval town? Codi gaped at the women merrily washing clothes or selling vegetables and the chickens and dogs and cats running around. Codi closed her eyes. This is not real. This is not real. I'm concussed. I'm delusional.

The door opened and Codi whirled to face a tall man with a red cape. He had a sword at his side. Codi trembled as he approached, eyes darting about for an escape route. He said something—it sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite catch the words—and reached for her. Without warning, Codi flew at him and kneed him sharply in the groin, scrambling around him as he fell to his knees. She blew out the door and down the hallway, praying that somehow she would end up outside.

By some miracle, she did. But she found herself standing scant yards away from more men. With swords. At least they didn't have any crossbows, she thought grimly. They stared at each other for a split second, then Codi bolted. They men charged after her, shouting.

Codi looked around frantically. Where could she go? They were right behind her! Think, she ordered herself. Wear them down—they're wearing some sort of armor. She looked around the courtyard littered with wagons, baskets, barrels, and other obstacles and grinned. If they want a chase, she thought, I'll give them a chase.

It was unreal, Lancelot thought. The girl was faster than a jackrabbit, weaving in and out of people and popping effortlessly over every possible obstacle that she could put between them and her. Even with five of them chasing her, she was avoiding them easily. They had tried to keep her in the courtyard, but she found the entryway into the town and slipped right past the guards—or rather, under them. She dove right between one's legs.

"Finally," Lancelot thought as they chased her toward the wall that contained the local goatherd's animals. It was almost six feet high and had no accessible entrance. "We've got her."

Or so he thought. The girl slowed, looking over her shoulder, then veered slightly to the side, curving toward the wall. They all watched incredulously as the girl pounded off the ground, punching one arm upward and throwing her head back so that she arced backwards over the wall. The last thing they saw was her bare feet disappearing over the wall.

"Did you see that?" Galahad demanded. "Impossible."

"Apparently not," Lancelot said wryly.

Dagonet grunted and wiped his brow.

"What _is_ this girl?" Gawain panted, clutching his side. "And why does she keep running from us?"

"Possibly because you keep chasing her." All four—Bors, heavyset as he was, had long since dropped out of the chase—turned to see Vonora standing there with her hands on her hips and Bors doubled up beside her. "You great brutes, if you were chasing me, I'd run, too."

"Not from me, I hope," Bors huffed, looking at his lover.

"Especially from you," Vonora snorted. "You lads stay here, I'll see to her."

Codi landed, thankfully, in a pile of hay and scrambled to her feet, looking around. A bunch of goats were staring at her in consternation. I suppose people don't usually fly over their wall and land in their food, she thought ruefully, and looked around for an exit. Spying a door, she quickly opened it—and ran right into a solid wall of flesh. Codi bounced off and fell to the ground. She peered up and saw a red faced giant gaping down at her, his piggy little eyes quickly narrowing in anger. He roared something and reached down to grab her, but his hands closed on air.

Codi was through his legs in an instant and darting past a startled looking woman stirring something over the fire. She spotted a door and whipped it open only to find herself face to face with a tall and curvy red-haired woman. Not wanting to hurt her, she tried to slip by and was stopped by a gentle hand on her arm. Codi threw an anxious glance over her shoulder at the giant, who looked redder than ever and furious. Giving the redhead a pleading look, she tried to pull away.

"Please," she begged. "Let me go..."

The red giant bellowed something, making Codi wince. The redhead gave a smooth reply in her own tongue and tugged Codi away. Codi frowned, wondering why it sounded so familiar, then it clicked. It was Old English! She'd taken a course in Old English in the fall semester and had liked it so much, she was taking another one. When the redhead spoke again, Codi payed close attention and caught what she was saying.

"My name is Vonora," she said slowly. Obviously, she'd figured out that Codi spoke another language.

"I—I am Codi," Codi said haltingly, both from her lack of breath and weak grasp of the language. "I fear—big men. Big, strong men. Run after me. Help?"

"I will help," Vonora said firmly. "The big men will not harm you."

She took Codi by the hand and led her around the corner where all five were leaning against the wall, scowling. With a small squeak of fear, Codi tried to pull away but was tugged forward by Vonora.

"The big men will not harm you," she repeated. "Be easy."

One of the men asked something and Vonora replied sharply. This brought a flurry of talk that Codi couldn't hope to follow. She edged behind Vonora and tried to make herself as insignificant as possible. After a few moments, Vonora stepped aside, revealing Codi once more. Resisting the urge to cower—barely—Codi contented herself with looking at the ground. When one of them stepped forward, however, she couldn't help but take a step back. Vonora pushed her forward and snapped something at the man, who was shorter than the others and heavyset. He put Codi in mind of a bull.

"I am Bors," he said. At Vonora's glare, he added, "I am sorry we frightened you."

"I am Lancelot," the next one said. "I am sorry as well."

One by one the men introduced themselves and apologized. After Lancelot, who was dark-haired and handsome in an aristocratic sort of way, came Gawain, who made Codi think of a lion with his long tawny hair. Next was Galahad, whose boyish curls would have made Codi smile had she not been about to piss herself. Lastly, there was Dagonet, a giant with short, almost buzzed hair and a scar one cheek. He looked like he could easily bench press Codi—with one hand. He scowled at her and said gruffly, "You should not fear me."

Codi swallowed. "I fear you. Much fear."

The other men started laughing and the big man, she was shocked to see, looked like he might just be blushing.

"Give them your name," Vonora urged her, smiling.

"Codi," she said, still nervous.

"Welcome to Hadrian's Wall, Codi," Lancelot said gallantly and bowed. Galahad and Gawain smiled encouragingly while Dagonet and Bors grunted and muttered.

Vonora took her hand once more and led the way back to the castle Codi had just fled. The men talked among themselves, occasionally asking Vonora questions, which she seemed to answering negatively. Or so Codi thought. She couldn't really tell. When they reached the castle, the man with a red cape who had originally entered Codi's room met them on the stairs. He did not look happy. Codi stopped and took a step back, bumping into Dagonet and almost falling. He steadied her with a grip of iron and frowned at her. With a gulp, Codi looked again at the red caped man, who had been joined by another. The new one was scruffy and dangerous looking, with some of his hair in braids and tattoos on each cheek.

"He will not hurt you," Vonora told her soothingly. "He is a good man."

"I—hurt him," Codi whispered, blushing. "Wake up, see man. See sword. Frightened."

Vonora raised her eyebrows and directed a question involving 'Codi' and 'hurt' at the man in the red cape, who scowled at Codi and said something she didn't catch at all. Codi hung her head miserably and tried to disappear behind Vonora. Once again, she was tugged forward. The one with tattoos fell into step with the rest of the men as Vonora followed the red caped man through the halls. Servants whispered as they passed, shooting Codi curious and slightly scandalized looks. Codi looked down at her jeans and T-shirt and scowled. Stupid nosy biddies, she thought.

When they entered a room with a large round table, Codi's eyes narrowed. And she looked quickly at the man in the red cape. He held out a chair for her and motioned for her to sit. Codi sat on the edge of the seat, ready to jump up again if need be. Peeking up at him, she asked tentatively, "Name?"

"Artorius," he said with a warm smile. "Arthur."

Codi's mouth dropped open. "No."

"Yes," he said, surprised. "Arthur is my name."

"King Arthur?" Codi pressed.

The men started to laugh, but the red-caped man just looked confused. "No."

Codi relaxed. Well, that was too close for comfort...wait a minute. Her eyes darted to Lancelot. Lancelot and Arthur. And Galahad. And a round table. Too much coincidence there, even if he wasn't a king and she didn't recognize the other names. What the hell was going on? But Codi didn't have any more time to dwell on it, for Arthur was asking a question. Vonora said something to him and he repeated himself more slowly.

"Does your arm hurt?"

Codi stared at him blankly for a moment, then looked down. She hadn't even noticed that her upper arm was bandaged. Now that she had time to think about it, it did sting a little. She shrugged.

"No much," she said.

"Not much," Arthur corrected her absently.

"Not much," Codi repeated. Arthur smiled at her and Codi found herself smiling back.

"Why did you run from us?" he asked.

"Frightened," Codi answered. Vonora gave them all an "I told you so" look that needed no translation.

Arthur asked another question that Codi didn't quite understand. He tried again. "Where do you come from?"

Knowing it would mean nothing to him, she replied, "West Virginia. Where am I?" She almost dreaded the answer.

"Britain," Arthur told her, as if surprised that she asked.

Codi closed her eyes. Oh, lord. "What year?"

Arthur rattled off a number that she didn't quite put together, but it started with four hundred. Suddenly Codi found it very difficult to breathe. Putting her face in her hands, she rubbed her eyes and tried not to cry. She tried telling herself that it wasn't real and she would wake up in a few moments, but it wasn't working very well.

"Are you well?" the one with tattoos asked, touching her shoulder lightly. He motioned to her head.

Mutely, Codi nodded. Her head, while it hurt, was the least of her worries. "I want to go home," she whispered in her own language.

Although he couldn't possibly have understood her, Arthur seemed to get the gist. "Where is your husband? Or your father?"

"I no—not know where father is," Codi said miserably. "I have no husband."

Arthur sighed and nodded. "Where is West Virginia?" He said Virginia slowly, as if to make sure he was saying it right.

"West," Codi told him, giving a sigh of her own. "Far west. Big water. No one there."

Arthur rubbed his temples. "Do you mean Ireland?"

"No." Codi shook her head. "More far west. Father not there."

"How did you come here?" Arthur asked.

"_Why_ did you come here?" Dagonet wanted to know.

"Where did you get your horse?" Gawain added.

"Stop," Vonora ordered, glaring. "One question at a time. Codi, how did you get here?"

"I not know," Codi mumbled.

"What did you say?"

"I not know," Codi repeated. To ward off questions she couldn't answer, she added. "Not remember."

"Do not know. Do not remember," Arthur told her tiredly. Codi repeated it dutifully. "How many summers have you seen?"

Codi blinked in confusion, then figured it out. But she couldn't seem to remember anything about numbers all of a sudden. She held up all ten fingers, closed them, then held up nine. They all looked surprised. Codi sighed. No one ever believed that she was nineteen. She'd been mistaken for a visiting high school student her first day of classes.

"Nineteen," Arthur told her in his language, and again Codi repeated it.

Arthur conferred briefly with his men, shooting several unreadable looks in her direction. They were obviously telling him how she had run from them. The one with tattoos was staring at her thoughtfully. She gave a small, uncertain smile, wondering what he wanted.

"Tristan," he said, indicating himself.

"Hello," she said nervously. His braids and tattoos and sharp black eyes were unnerving.

"I am sorry," he said, indicating her arm. "I shot the arrow." He said something about her head accompanied by a rueful grimace. He didn't mean for me to hit my head, she realized. He just wanted me out of the saddle. Speaking of which...

"My horse," she said clearly, interrupting. "Where is my horse?"

"In the stables," Galahad told her. "I put her there myself."

"She is well?"

"She is well," Galahad assured her, then grinned. "And very fast."

Codi smiled back. "Yes. Very fast."

"You are very fast, too," Gawain added. "Faster than we are."

"You are not very fast," Codi told him, then clapped a hand over her mouth, surprised by her daring.

The men roared with laughter. Even Arthur grinned. Codi gave a tentative smile and then winced as her head gave a sudden, particularly painful throb. Tristan saw it and motioned for her to rise.

"You should rest," he said. "Your head is not yet well. And you have had enough excitement for today."

"Yes," Codi agreed, rubbing her head. "Much excitement. Too much. Sleep now."

"Come," Vonora said, taking her hand again. "I will tend you and stay with you as you sleep."

"I am happy," Codi told her gratefully.

"Good," Vonora said, and led her away.

"That is the strangest girl I have ever seen," Gawain said flatly, staring after her.

"What language does she speak?" Lancelot wondered.

"And where is this West Virginia place?" said Galahad.

"Knights," Arthur said, holding up his hands as if to ward off their questions. "I know as much as you do, if not less."

"What?" Galahad gasped in mock surprise. "But you know everything—_King_ Arthur."

Bors snorted. "King, my arse."

"And what a large arse it is," Lancelot quipped.

"What do we do with her?" Dagonet asked, overriding Bors' angry expletive. "I think that's what we ought to be thinking about."

"_I_ know what to do with a pretty little thing like her," Lancelot said with a roguish grin.

"You might as well take a boy to bed," Bors snorted. "Skinny."

"Lancelot," Arthur said warningly. "Bors."

"We care for her until she is well," Tristan shrugged. "What else is there to do?"

"Send her on her way," Dagonet said with a scowl. "We've enough to deal with as it is."

"On her way to where?" Gawain protested. "She doesn't remember how she got here and she doesn't know where her father is. And even if he was in her homeland, we haven't exactly got the money to send her to West Virginia. Wherever it is."

"Well, then, what do you propose?" Dagonet demanded.

"We can't just turn her out," Gawain said, looking around at his comrades. "She's got nowhere to go."

"Gawain's right," Bors declared. "She's a plucky lass. I like her. Even if she is skinny."

"Oh, good," Vonora said from the doorway. "So you won't mind her staying with us, then. Gods know I could use the help. And she needs a home, the poor dear."

"Did you give her the tea I prepared?" Tristan asked, and Vonora nodded.

"Is she alright?" Gawain asked. "That was quite a tumble she took..."

"She's grieving for her father," Vonora said sadly, and sat next to Bors. "I can't imagine what it could have been like for her. You are all heartless cads, do you know that? Honestly, chasing down and _shooting_ at a defenseless girl? What were you thinking? And the poor thing doesn't even speak our language."

"She did not head my command to halt," Arthur said stiffly

"Because she couldn't understand you, you lack wit," Vonora snapped.

"She could have been a threat," Arthur argued.

"Oh, well, of _course_," Vonora said, rolling her eyes. "That girl is positively the most threatening thing I've ever laid eyes on. I've seen rabbits more frightening than she is."

"This is the part where I usually start kissing her," Bors remarked. "But I'll chop off your bollocks if you do that, so I would just say 'yes, Vonora'. That sometimes works."

Arthur sighed. "Yes, Vonora."

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there you are, my ducks. mind you review!


	3. Chapter 3

lovely reviews, duckies, just lovely...sorry, this is a shortish one--the next one will be longer, I promise.

Wild Woman: just curious...what do call track and field over there?

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When Codi awoke just after sunset, her headache was gone. Hopefully, she kept her eyes closed and counted to twenty in the vain hope that it had all been a dream and she would wake up in her own room. She opened her eyes and saw the curtains. Damn. With a sigh, she got out of bed and looked at her sweaty, smelly clothes and dirty feet and noticed a simple dress laid over the back of a chair. Shrugging, Codi stripped out of her dirty clothes and pulled on the dress. It was rather too large for her, but it would do. She found her socks and was tugging on her boots when Vonora let herself into the room.

"Do you feel better?" she asked with a smile.

"Much better," Codi said with a nod. "I am happy."

Vonora frowned, then laughed. "Say, 'thank you'. I don't think you are very happy at all."

Codi smiled sadly. "No. I want home and father. But I cannot have."

"The knights—the big men—have been wondering what to do with you," Vonora told her. "I offered to let you stay in my house and help me care for my children. Would you like that?"

"Children?" Codi asked, trying to mask her horror. She abhorred small children.

"Perhaps not," Vonora said with a laugh. "Well, you can stay with me regardless. We'll find something to do with you."

"Thank you," Codi said. "Where is stables? I want to see my horse."

"Where _are the_ stables. I will show you," Vonora said, and handed her a cup of some foul smelling medicinal brew. "Drink this as we walk. We must hurry. The men will be wanting their dinner soon. You can help me work."

"No children?" Codi asked.

"No children," Vonra assured her.

Moondancer greeted Codi by attempting to smear bran mash over her hair. Codi escaped and, satisfied that her horse was alright, followed Vonora to a tavern where she handed Codi a pitcher of ale and told her, "Fill up the cups." Codi, eyes wide, kept her mouth shut and did as she was told, ignoring the leers men directed at her. More than a few times one would say something that she didn't understand and Vonora would rescue her.

"Ale?" Codi asked wearily an hour later.

A dirty, gap-toothed guard with stringy, oily hair grinned up at her and slurred something. Before she could move, he had grabbed her about the waist and pulled her into his lap. Codi cried out and tried to get up, but he yanked her back and tried to kiss her. She nearly gagged at the smell of his breath. Codi drew her hand back to slap the inebriated bastard, but he grabbed her wrist and forced it down. His buddies were guffawing merrily and clapping him on the back. Codi bit back tears and turned her face away. She could vaguely hear Vonora shouting in the background.

Very suddenly, Codi found herself free. Sprawled on the earthen floor and rubbing her wrist, but free. The drunken ape was pinned to the table with three swords at his throat. Codi looked up at her rescuers and saw Arthur, Dagonet, and Tristan standing over her would-be rapist with hard, cold expressions on their faces. The rest were ranged behind them, daring anyone to intervene.

Vonora rushed to kneel at Codi's side and put her arms about the shaking girl, stroking her hair and murmuring comforts. She glared around at the drunk's companions and gave them all a tongue lashing. She asked Codi a question, but Codi's mind was so overloaded she couldn't understand a thing. Vonora helped her to her feet and led her away to the back of the tavern, where Codi was made to sit on a stool in front of the fire and drink a cup of tea.

Soon, Codi was calm enough to collect her thoughts and return to work, although Vonora offered to take her home. At the end of the night, Codi was exhausted both mentally and physically and could only stare dumbly at the handful of coins Vonora handed her. Wearily, she tucked them into her pocket and followed Vonora and Bors to their home, a little one room house crawling with children. Vonora sent Codi up to the loft with the rest of her children to sleep.

Codi tugged her boots off and curled up in a corner of the loft, trying not to think about spiders or rats or other undesirables that might be sharing her sleeping space. She closed her eyes, but couldn't sleep. Seven children between the ages of five and ten were, in her opinion, a fate worse than death. For what seemed like hours, they argued, wrestled, cried, and whined while Vonora and Bors carried on their own argument downstairs.

Even when the noise stopped, sleep eluded Codi. Every little sound was a rat scurrying through the hay and every breath of wind was a bat flying right by her face. Even the children's gentle breathing was as distracting as Bors' snoring. With a sigh, Codi slipped down the ladder and padded out the door in bare feet.

Once outside, she pulled on her boots and wrapped herself in the shawl Vonora had given her. The streets were deserted. Taking care to remember where she had come from, Codi set out, keeping to shadows, and eventually found her way to the stables. With a sigh of relief, she slipped into Moondancer's stall. The filly was slightly confused as to why she had a visitor at this hour, but she didn't protest.

"What are you doing here?" a startled voice asked.

Codi whipped around to see Gawain exit the stall opposite hers. Uncomfortably, she looked around. "Not sleep."

"Cannot sleep," he told her.

Rubbing her face, Codi nodded. "Forgive me. It is...not easy."

"Difficult," Gawain provided.

"Yes, difficult," Codi agreed. "New place, new language. I am a child here."

"You will learn," Gawain said comfortingly, leaning against the wall. "Here, I'll help you." He pointed to the stall and said the word in his language. "See? A new word."

In spite of her fatigue and depression, Codi smiled and repeated it in her language. "You learn, too."

They spent the next hour naming things in both languages until Codi was so sleepy she couldn't see straight. Chuckling, Gawain walked her back to Bors and Vonora's house and then returned to the castle, shaking his head at the strangeness of it all. He snorted with laughter, recalling her pantomimed explanation of why she couldn't sleep. He had witnessed Bors' bastards quarreling on more than one occasion and was all too familiar with his friend's snoring, so it was easy to recognize. Codi had managed to mimic it almost perfectly. It was both strange and amusing to hear such a huge sound come from such a little thing. Especially _that_ sound.

I wonder what will become of her? Gawain mused. She seems so small, yet I know how strong she is—physically, anyway. She needs someone to stand up for her until she learns to stand up for herself. Gawain smiled, knowing that, whatever they might say, the Sarmatian Knights would not just send the girl on their way. Arthur wouldn't abandon their foundling and neither would any of his knights. They would all stand up for her whenever she needed it.

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forgive the sap, but that's my Gawain for you...a hopeless romantic. keep the reviews coming!


	4. Chapter 4

I'm trying adding another chapter because chapter 3 refuses to show up on It's weird because it says I have 3 chapters but refuses to show the third. This probably won't do anything or even show up, it's worth a try, right? Right.

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Slowly, Codi's day to day existence ceased to be a constant headache. As the months went by, words began to come more easily and she didn't have to focus so hard on what people were saying. She learned how to avoid men's advances in the tavern and how to fall asleep with a bunch of screaming children—by escaping to the stables, more often or not. Gawain was often there to talk with her and tell her of the knights' adventures. Codi learned that they had been drafted into the Roman army ten years ago and brought from their homeland, Sarmatia. She still claimed not to remember anything about how she found herself in Britain. No one would believe her if she told them she was from the future—they would likely chalk it up to not being able to speak the language correctly and ignore her.

In the mornings, Codi would take Dancer out for a run accompanied by one or more of the knights, who had seemed to take a liking to her. In the beginning, they couldn't keep up, but their horses quickly got in shape. Afterward, Codi exercised herself using the makeshift shoes she had made from scraps of leather begged off of the village tanner. The knights refused to join her in this activity, practicing weaponry instead. Codi tried to keep herself busy so that she could forget about her former life. But she often found herself lonely and strangely unsettled. She couldn't quite put her finger on when the feeling started, exactly, but it was around the time she had first noticed smoke rising from the woods along the Wall.

"What is that?" she had asked Gawain. "Does someone live in the forest?"

"Aye," he had replied. "Morgaine. A witch, some say. She lives alone with only the beasts for company. And the Woads, I'm thinking. Tristan had some dealings with her a long time ago, but he doesn't talk about it much. Then one day he just left. He was gone for nearly two weeks and came back with tattoos and that hawk of his and he's been different ever since."

Over the next few months, Codi would often find herself staring over the Wall, toward the forest. If the knights noticed, they gave no indication, but they often tried to wheedle more information about her past. She told them what she could and claimed to not remember what she couldn't. The only one to didn't press her for information was Tristan, who merely gave her quiet courtesy and companionship when she was in need of it. At first he unnerved her with his silence, but Codi soon learned that he did have a personality hidden underneath his cold exterior, just as Lancelot did have manners tucked away gathering dust somewhere and Dagonet and Bors did have hearts—or perhaps one shared between them. Arthur, she learned, felt himself responsible for all of his knights and now for her, as well. He told her once that she reminded him of his little sister, who had died when he was young.

Galahad and Gawain, closest to her in age (Gawain was only twenty and Galahad twenty-three), were always ready for fun. And mischief. Their latest prank was to be planned for Summerfair, when all the villagers would travel to Sterlingshire to trade goods and gossip and watch games and tournaments.

"Codi, you could beat everyone there, you and Dancer both," Galahad coaxed.

"And think what a good joke it will be when everyone finds out you're a woman!" Gawain added with a grin.

"Isn't it against the rules for a woman to enter a race?" Codi pointed out. "They would stone me if they found out, surely."

"We'll protect you," Galahad told her with a wink. "And there's no rule against it, technically speaking..."

"Arthur will be furious."

"Let us deal with Arthur," Gawain said dismissively. "Codi, think of it! You'll win all sorts of prizes and purses—more money than you'd make in a month at the tavern. And that's aside from the winnings from bets. No one would bet on a little twig of a "boy" like you."

"Such confidence," Codi said dryly.

"Oh, but we do have confidence in you. Everyone does," Gawain told her.

"Except you," Galahad added with a snort.

"Wait a moment," Codi said with a frown. "Everyone? Just how many people are in on this?"

"Just a few," Galahad said lamely. Codi raised an eyebrow. "Everyone but Arthur."

"Even Tristan?" Codi asked in surprise. "I wouldn't have thought he'd approve."

"Oh, he doesn't approve of the joke—he just wants to see you thrash everyone," Gawain explained. "So, will you do it? We could all of us use a bit more coin. You're not the only one with a skimpy wage."

"Alright," Codi said finally, "but when Arthur finds out--"

"_If_ Arthur finds out--"

"_When _Arthur finds out—and he will—I am blaming it entirely on you," Codi finished.

"Done," Galahad said promptly. "Do us proud."

"What he means is, win enough coin to make it worth Arthur's displeasure," Gawain clarified.

"Do we have to let everyone know that I'm a girl?" she asked. "Why don't I just take my winnings and be done with it?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Galahad demanded.

"I just want to race," Codi said uncomfortably as they rode through the gates into the fortress.

"You don't want people to notice you," Gawain said sternly. "I hate to tell you, lass, but people notice you whether you know it or not."

"Well, I see no reason to draw unnecessary attention to myself," Codi said stubbornly.

"We'll see, lass, we'll see," Gawain said, and refused to discuss it further. Codi had the feeling that she would end up unmasked whether she wanted to be or not.

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Summerfair was a zoo. Codi didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it wasn't the hordes of people talking, laughing, yelling, and waving their goods about that pressed in on all sides. Codi fingered her hunter's cap nervously, hoping that none of her hair had fallen out. It felt good to wear pants again, even if they were too big. She didn't like, however, the dirt Gawain and Galahad had smeared on her face—she could practically feel her pores clogging.

"Are we really going through with this?" Codi whispered to Gawain as she mounted Dancer.

"Of course we are," he whispered back. "Galahad's taking bets now. Now, get in line!"

With a sigh, Codi urged Dancer toward the starting line. As she approached, however, she could feel the adrenaline starting to pump. A real race with her in the saddle! It wasn't the Kentucky Derby, but it was as close as she was ever going to get, so she'd better make it count. Moondancer would do wonderfully, she knew. The course was just over a mile long—it would be a piece of cake for her. There was one colt Codi had seen that might give them some trouble, but his rider was much too large.

Suddenly, the red flag went up and a sea of horses surged forward. Moondancer shot ahead, getting herself clear of the throng. Codi let her out a bit more, seeing that the colt was right beside them. She tried to keep the filly at that pace, but Dancer seemed to be enraged by the colt's presumption and fought to have her head. Fretting for a moment, Codi finally decided to let her go—fighting her would only tire the horse out. Dancer surged ahead, leaving the colt behind. To Codi's amazement, Dancer kept up the pace for the entire race and gave even more in the final stretch. Codi gave a whoop of joy as they crossed the finish line. Dancer had utterly destroyed them. With a pang, Codi thought of how successful her horse could have been in their own time.

Codi dismounted and found herself the recipient of many beaming grins and hearty pats on the back that nearly knocked her to the ground. Gawain fought his way through the crowd and gave her a crushing hug that lifted her clear of the ground. She could see Galahad with a huge grin on his face, collecting money from several sour looking guards. Sterlingshire's sheriff dropped a good-sized purse into Codi's hands and patted her shoulder.

"Well done," he said. "Where are you from? I've not seen you before, or your horse."

"Hadrian's Wall," Gawain answered for her. "He's my squire."

"A bit on the small side," the sheriff said with a wink at Codi. "But lads grow. Tis the nature of the beast."

"Aye, that it is," Gawain said, eyes twinkling. "Come, now, lad, tis time for the footrace."

"_He's_ racing?" the sheriff asked, clearly shocked. "He'll be stepped on, surely."

"Oh, he'll race," Galahad said, having finished collecting. "And he'll win, too."

"Care to wager on that?" the sheriff returned, and giving Codi an apologetic look. "I mean no offense, lad, but you're half the size of the men who are running."

"None taken," Codi answered, pitching her voice lower than normal. When the sheriff was gone and her friends were hustling her to her race, she asked, "Just how long is the race?"

"From one end of the wall to the other and back," Galahad told her. "And it's grass, so you won't have any muck the fight through."

Codi considered. It would be a hundred and ten, hundred and twenty meters all told. In a straight sprint, she would be at a disadvantage. "Is there any way you could have them put barrels or something on the course? Anything that has to be jumped over—that's what I'm best at. If these men are tall, they could beat me simply because they're longer in the leg."

"I think we can do something," Gawain said, thinking. "It would spice up the competition."

"And no one would expect it to work to her advantage," Galahad added. "If anything, they would think it would be harder. Let me go see what I can do."

Galahad spent a few minutes talking to a man, who took one look at Codi and started laughing. He shook Galahad's hand and turned away with a smug grin on his face. Galahad returned with a grin equally smug and informed them of his success.

"He's going to make an announcement now," he told his partners in crime, and smirked. "He told me he'd give me his new dagger if our 'squire' made it over the first one."

"What of winning the race?" Gawain asked.

"Never fear," Galahad assured him. "You just get Codi entered in the race and leave the money to me. We'll be rich, lads—disgustingly, sinfully rich."

Codi couldn't help but grin as she put on her home made running shoes. They were really little more than leather socks with extra padded on the soles—not so different from her track shoes. She had even managed to make rough cleats out of them by lodging sharp rocks in the bottoms. She was going to win, she just knew it. All the men were tall, yes, but weighed down by heavy boots and belts. And Codi sincerely doubted any of them had any clue how to run hurtles—or barrels. She could see them staring in consternation as barrels were lined up at regular intervals.

Codi felt her heart hammering as she took her stance, ignoring the guffaws derisive comments from her opponents and the crowd. When the flag went down, Codi exploded forward like an arrow from a crossbow. Before she knew it, she was over the first line of barrels. She could hear curses and several loud crashes behind her. Grinning, she pushed herself faster, flying over each obstacle. As she approached the wall, Codi dropped and rolled rather than turn—she lost less momentum that way. She finished so far ahead of the rest that the one closest behind her still had two rows of barrels to go. Codi couldn't help but laugh as she watched them lurch clumsily over the barrels.

"Codi, you are amazing," Gawain declared, crushing her once more.

Galahad wandered over shortly with a blissful grin on his face. "I haven't had this much money since—well, ever."

"We can win more, you know," Codi told them, grinning broadly. She was getting into the spirit of things. It was odd...no one knew she was a girl—that she was Codi. She could be as bold as she wanted. She could simply be someone else.

"How?" Gawain asked. "There are no more races."

"Line up...five barrels lengthwise," Codi said. "How many would bet that I can jump over them?"

"Codi, we just saw you jump over ten rows," Galahad said impatiently.

"No, I mean jump over them lengthwise," Codi clarified.

"_Can_ you do that?" Gawain asked skeptically.

"Easily," Codi said promptly. It would be little more than fifteen feet, and she'd jumped sixteen feet in her freshman year of high school. "And if you can find a wall or a fence about my height or a little higher, I'll jump over that, too."

"Are you sure you're human?" Galahad asked, shaking his head, but moved to line up the barrels as Gawain started shouting to the gathered crowd. Within the next hour, the three of them had more money than they would have had with six months of their wages combined. The crowds were repeatedly flabbergasted.

"You'd think that they'd learn," Codi muttered to Galahad as they collected their winnings.

"If I didn't know better, I wouldn't bet on you, either," Galahad told her. "You have no idea how bizarre it looks. It's like...it's like seeing a cow fly or something."

Codi narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying I look like a cow?"

"Of course not, my beauty," Galahad told her with an evil grin. "I think you look like a lovely... woman!"

Codi gasped and snatched at the cap that Gawain was now holding above his head. The crowd erupted in cries of shock and outrage. With a sigh, she crossed her arms and found herself smiling in spite of herself. They were all so angry! Codi had to giggle at the incredulous expressions on everyone's faces.

"I was wondering why you two weren't in the archery tournament," came a dry voice from behind her.

"Ah, well, we knew you'd beat us anyway," Gawain said to Tristan. "How much did you see?"

"Enough," Tristan said with the faintest ghost of a smile . "I would get cleaned up and changed. I saw Arthur heading this way and he didn't look happy."

"Codi!" Vonora cried, rushing over with Lancelot and Bors at her heals. "Quickly, Arthur's coming. Here, I've brought you your dress--"

"That was brilliant, Codi!" Lancelot commended her, thumping her on the back. "You are going to share your winnings with us, right?"

"Not likely," Codi snorted as she was hustled away. "I'm sure you won plenty by yourself."

In the safety of a nearby store owned by a friend of Vonora, Codi changed swiftly into her dress and splashed water on her face, clearing it of sweat and dirt. She took out her winner's purses and her share of the bet winnings and showed them to Vonora.

"Oh, Codi," Vonora breathed. "So much...more than you'd make in a _year_--"

"I know," Codi said anxiously. "What should I do with it? I can't leave it on my belt..."

"Hid it under your shirt," Vonora said. "Carry only what you need on your belt. Oh, Codi, this is wonderful! We can buy you a proper dress and a cloak and blankets and stockings...boots for the winter..."

And that's just what they did. The two women outfitted Codi suitably so that Vonora could have her only extra dress back. They shopped, ate, watched competitions...and avoided Arthur. Or tried to, anyway. He caught up with them as they cheered on Dagonet in the wrestler's ring and gently tapped Codi on the shoulder.

"I understand you were quite a success today," he said mildly.

"It was Gawain and Galahad's idea," Codi said swiftly.

"Oh, I know," Arthur said, waving a hand dismissively. "And since there is nothing I can do about it, I will congratulate you. You do realize that it won't work again, don't you? Everyone will have heard by now and, by next year, they'll have you jumping over the very rooftops."

"I can still win with Moondancer," Codi said with a shrug. "That in itself is a considerable purse."

"Which reminds me," Arthur said wryly. "I believe I must thank you. Gawain and Galahad apparently thought that they could buy me off with a new dagger."

"Did they?"

"No, but I now have a new dagger," Arthur said with a grin, "and Gawain and Galahad have extra night watch duty."

"And what of me?" Codi asked warily.

"You? Well, I suppose you have a new dress and enough to go wherever you choose," Arthur said. "I'll not punish you for being exploited."

"Go?" Codi asked in confusion. "Go where?"

"Codi," Vonora said softly. "Your winnings are more than enough to buy you passage on a ship and supplies for a journey."

Codi shook her head. "There's not a ship in the world that would be sailing where I'd need to go. And even if there was a ship sailing to my home, there would be no one there. My home is with you, now."

"I'm glad," Vonora said, giving her a hug. "I know it's selfish of me, but I would hate to see you go."

"You know that I do not approve," Arthur said suddenly, "but I wish I could have seen it."

Codi grinned. "I'll happily show you any time you like. I've missed it."

"Come, walk with me a while," Arthur said, offering his arm.

He opened his mouth to excuse himself to Vonora, but she waved him away. "Bors is wrestling Dagonet next. Twill be a fight worth watching."

"Are you happy?" Arthur asked her after a few minutes of walking. "You've come a long way since we first found you, but are you really content?"

Codi thought carefully before answering. "I'm grateful for a roof over my head and food in my belly. I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for your knights and Vonora."

"But are you happy?" Arthur pressed.

"I don't know. I feel...caged," Codi sighed. "I miss my training, my competitions. I miss being able to come and go as I please and run when I want to without people looking at me oddly. It's so _frustrating_ to be sitting and sewing or tending the baby or serving food and drink when I could be exercising my horse or myself—or both. I've never been one for sitting idly."

"No one could accuse you of spending your time idly," Arthur said with a frown. "You've been a tremendous help to Vonora, I know. Tis no easy thing, raising seven children largely on her own."

"Perhaps idle isn't the word," Codi conceded. "I'm not used to being...sedentary. The work I do is done while sitting, or walking at most. I don't like being cooped up like that."

"What a strange world yours must be, little one," Arthur said, shaking his head.

"You would find it strange," Codi admitted.

"Is that why you don't speak of it?"

Codi hesitated. "Aye. Partly. But mostly because it's easier not to think about it."

"I understand," Arthur said gently. "But come, I want to hear about your successes today. And I want the truth, mind—I keep hearing about a horse that sprouted wings and a fairy passing for a human. I've known you but a few months, but I do believe that you are, in fact human. Unless that's something else you've kept from us?"

Unexpectedly, it stung. "If there were something about me I thought you should know, I would have told you."

"Be easy," Arthur said soothingly. "I didn't mean it like that. Tell me how you learned to perform such feats."

"It's a competition," Codi explained. "A tournament, really, with races and throwing and jumping events. I'm a jumper. I've trained for years and competed for my university before I found myself here."

"You attended a university?" Arthur asked in surprise. "A woman?"

"Aye," Codi said with a frown. "Many women do—most are better students than the men."

"You can read?" Arthur asked. "And write?"

"In my own language, yes," Codi said. "Although we used the Roman alphabet and Arabic numerals."

"Do you know Latin?"

"A bit," Codi replied. "About as much Briton as I spoke when I first came here. Perhaps a little less."

"What else?"

"Most of it has no use here," Codi told him. "All desk work—mathematics, science, philosophy, Spanish, French, Greek...although I did enjoy astronomy." She smiled sadly. "The stars are still the same here as they are at home."

"What of religion?" Arthur asked. "Surely you learned some."

"Oh, I'm not Christian, really," Codi said. "And most universities aren't affiliated with a church at all."

Arthur shook his head. He looked troubled. "If I did not know you, I would accuse you of madness. Or at least blasphemy."

"You see why I do not speak of it? It is hard to believe," Codi said softly. "The complete truth you could not begin to accept."

"I believe you," Arthur said with a sigh, and looked down at her. "I will try to think of something, Codi. You are wasted in the village, but I do not know what else to do with you."

Codi refrained from pointing out that she didn't want or need someone to decide what to do with her.


	5. Chapter 5

sigh. Yes, it's been raining over here, too. I had to play a soccer game a few days ago in the freezing rain on a turf field, meaning the water doesn't get soaked up like it should--and would if it were grass, not plastic--so we were basically playing in a inch deep pool of water. It bit some major ass. And not even a shapely sort of ass. We're talking old, wrinkled, ugly ass. With pimples.

Anyway.

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Codi smiled as the fortress came into view. It was very like coming home. Almost without realizing it, her eyes slid along the wall to the small column of smoke rising from the forest. Codi frowned as something within her stirred. It was as if something called to her from the forest, beckoning her silently. As if she were missing something and it could be found there, in the forest...just beyond her reach...

"Codi, where are you going?"

With a start, Codi realized that she had started toward the forest. She looked back at Gawain, who had called her, and then at the forest. Fighting back irrational frustration, she shook her head. Tristan regarded her intently, as did the hawk resting on his fist.

"I...I don't know," Codi said confusedly.. "I must have been daydreaming."

"Well, wake up, we go right to work as soon as we get home," Vonora said grumpily from the wagon where she nursed her baby.

Codi groaned. She really, really didn't feel like working tonight. But the men would no doubt want to drink, and someone had to serve them. And serve she did, even though she would have liked nothing better than to just drop into her corner of the loft and sleep. Codi yawned and reached for another pitcher of ale but found herself holding a piece of bread instead. Ana, the tavern keeper's wife, held the rest of the loaf and was shaking it at her sternly.

"Eat," she ordered, and pinched Codi's arm. "You're naught but skin and bones. How will you ever catch a man, Codi? You've nothing to show that you're even female!"

Codi rolled her eyes and munched her bread. The women in Britain were either curvy and voluptuous if they were lucky or just plain chubby if they were not. Being thin was usually a sign of being poor and therefor underfed. Vonora's friends were forever bemoaning Codi's perpetual state of comparative scrawniness, saying that no respectable man would marry a woman who looked more like a young boy. They said. Codi did not consider herself particularly scrawny or boyish.

"I suppose it would be pointless to remind you that I don't particularly need a man," Codi said around her bread.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Ana chastised. "And who says you don't need a man? You do, if only for Vonora's sake. She has enough people in that house without you on top of it."

Codi stopped chewing. She hadn't thought of it that way. But then she shrugged. She pulled her weight in Vonora's house—that certainly wasn't a reason to get married. Codi finished her bread and escaped with her pitcher of ale before Ana could find something else to criticize.

Codi gasped as she found herself pulled into a little nook in the wall, then relaxed when she saw it was only Gawain.

"You almost made me spill my ale," she fretted.

"Heaven forbid," Gawain murmured. "I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

"Why?" Codi asked, puzzled. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I don't think so," Gawain said with a soft laugh. "I heard Ana squawking at you, by the way."

Codi snorted. "The way she talks, you'd think that I'll just burn to a crisp one day if I don't get married."

"Are you so set against it?" Gawain asked, cocking his head.

"I'm just not in any rush," Codi shrugged. "And, besides, she's made it abundantly clear that no self-respecting man would marry me the way I am. I'm too skinny."

"What if one would?"

Codi eyed him warily. "Gawain, you're not--"

He kissed her then, full on the mouth. "No, but I'm thinking I might like to, one day. Would you let me try to convince you?"

"I...well..." Codi took a shaky breath. "I don't--"

Gawain kissed her again, pulling her gently against his chest. Codi felt her heart hammer and her stomach start to flutter. It was embarrassing, really. She'd only been kissed once in her life—she'd been thirteen and her boyfriend had sort of ambushed her during a movie. She had let him because she hadn't wanted to make a scene, but she'd never had any desire to repeat the experience since then. But this—this was something wholly different. Gawain was no just-barely-pubescent boy fumbling through his first kiss. He clearly was quite experienced.

Codi's eyes fluttered open. "I...I suppose I might be open to persuasion," she said weakly.

"There's my good lass," Gawain said, smiling down at her.

"I should get back to work," Codi whispered, looking at the ground.

"Go on, then," Gawain murmured in her ear. Codi shivered. "I'll be in the stables tonight, if you'd like to come."

Codi nodded and slipped away. She felt shaky and slightly dizzy, and found herself fumbling with cups and bumping into things. She noticed Vonora casting puzzled glances her way, but Codi avoided her eyes. When Codi spilled ale all over Arthur, however, Vonora took her aside and felt her forehead.

"You're feverish," Vonora said. "What's wrong? Are you ill?"

"No, no," Codi muttered. "I'm fine, really—I'm just clumsy..."

"You're not clumsy," Vonora said, looking at her shrewdly. "Gawain couldn't take his eyes off you."

Codi blushed deeply, giving herself away. Vonora smiled triumphantly. "I knew it! I had a feeling he was sweet on you...did he kiss you?"

Codi nodded.

"Have you been kissed before?"

"Once," Codi admitted, still bright red. "Not like that."

"Oh, my poor lass," Vonora laughed. "It can be overwhelming. You'll get used to it."

"He said he wanted to convince me to marry him," Codi half wailed.

"You poor, poor dear." Vonora gave her a quick hug and chuckled. "You don't have to marry him if you don't want to. Come on, now, have a sip of ale to calm your nerves."

"With any luck, I'll pass out. I already feel drunk," Codi muttered, but took a sip.

No such luck.

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Codi spent the next few weeks in a constant state of flustered anxiety. She enjoyed Gawain's kisses, but—he acted differently toward her, now. He was protective of her in an entirely new way and always seemed to be around. Codi kind of liked that, too, but it got tiring sometimes. And on top of that, she still felt the unnamed longing and frustration eating away at her insides. She found herself wanting to ride and run more and more, but finding less and less time. Lately it was all she could do to just escape for a few moments.

Codi was standing on the ramparts, enjoying a moment of peace, when she heard a soft footstep behind her. With a sigh, she turned around to receive Gawain and saw with a start that it wasn't Gawain at all, but Tristan. This time her sigh was one of relief. Tristan wouldn't tease her or try to wheedle information out of her. Or ask her what she was doing out there, all alone.

"Hiding from your lover?" Tristan asked lightly, moving to stand beside her.

"I'm not hiding," Codi said defensively. "Just thinking."

"What about, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I'm not sure," Codi sighed.

Tristan raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"I've been feeling for weeks that something is missing or—that I should be doing something," Codi tried to explain. "Only I don't know what."

"What do you want to do?" Tristan asked idly. Codi shrugged. "If you were free to do anything—anything at all—what would you do?"

Codi thought for a moment. "You promise you won't laugh?"

"I swear," Tristan said solemnly.

"I'd go find Morgaine," Codi said swiftly, and blushed.

"Then why don't you?" Tristan asked mildly. If he thought her desire strange, he gave no indication.

Codi opened her mouth and then shut it. "I don't know. I suppose because someone would try to stop me and I wouldn't be able to explain why I want to go." Codi made a face. "With my luck, it would be Gawain, and he would tell me that it's silly and talk me out of it."

"Why do you let him?" Tristan wondered, staring at her intently. "Talk you into and out of things, I mean. Push you around."

Codi shrugged uncomfortably. "It doesn't seem like he pushes me around."

"But that's what it is," Tristan pointed out.

"I know," Codi said, looking down. "It's just...oh, I don't know. He just makes me feel...small. Like he knows better and what I feel is silly or inconsequential."

"So why do you stay with him? Surely he doesn't kiss _that_ well," Tristan said wryly.

"I like him," Codi said truthfully. "He's funny and kind and I know he cares about me—he just gets carried away sometimes." Suddenly something occurred to her. "Tristan, how old are you?"

"I'll be twenty six this fall," Tristan answered, surprised. "Why?"

"You sound like a wise old man," Codi smiled. "Things are much clearer when you're around."

"That's because you're free to think when I'm around," Tristan said with a snort. "Somehow I doubt you do much thinking in Gawain's company."

"True enough," Codi admitted with a smile. Then her smile faded. "You think I shouldn't...carry on with him any more?"

"Codi," Tristan said exasperatedly, "you're completely missing the point. It doesn't matter what I think or what Gawain thinks or what anyone thinks. It matters what _Codi_ thinks. What Codi wants."

Codi sighed. "If only I knew. I do care for him. A lot. But... I don't like the way I act when I'm with him. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense," Tristan assured her.

"I don't know what to do," Codi groaned. "I don't want to end it, but I don't want to feel like a child, either."

"You don't have to end it," Tristan said reasonably. "You could change it. You say you don't like the way you act when you with him, so change the way you act. Don't let him treat you like a child—then he can't make you feel like one."

"I suppose," Codi said dubiously.

"Just promise me one thing," Tristan said sternly. "Promise that, when you decide what you want, you won't let anyone gainsay you. That you'll stand up for yourself."

"I hear that a lot," Codi confessed. "My father always told me I needed to stand up for myself more."

"You should head him," Tristan told her. "Now, promise."

"Aye, aye," Codi said wearily. "I promise."

"Good lass." Tristan gave one of his rare grins and ruffled her hair, leaving her to her thoughts.

The next morning, Codi got up early and tacked up Moondancer. The guards didn't stop her at the gate, being used to her early morning rides. If it was a bit earlier today, they didn't seem to notice. Before she could lose her nerve, Codi urged Dancer toward the forest. They found a path leading in the proper direction and followed it, though it was little more than a deer trail.

Codi looked around apprehensively. This was completely different from the woods around her farm. For one thing, this was a _forest_. An old, old forest with towering oaks rather than the slender birches and maples she was used to. But, for once, the insistent longing, the emptiness did not drive her to the brink of insanity. It was still present, yes, but Codi was answering it's call. She felt as if it were a gentle, guiding hand on the small of her back rather than an angry, choking force around her neck.

Codi jumped in surprise as a raven passed inches above her head and settled on a low branch, cackling gleefully. Dancer snorted in annoyance but didn't spook, much to Codi's surprise and relief. They continued on through the dark, misty forest. Codi drew in a shaky breath, only just realizing that she had no means to defend herself. Although, she reasoned, Dancer could outrun almost anything that might come at them. She would have to trust her horse.

Suddenly, Codi stopped and looked around. They were no longer on the trail. Cursing softly, she gulped. What should she do? Stay put and hope someone would find her? Fat chance. No one knew where she'd gone. Tristan might think of it, but there was no reason for him to think something was amiss. Or, by the time it became clear that something was...Codi didn't even want to think about it.

A raucous cackle from over head startled her from her thoughts. A raven—the same one as before, perhaps?--peered down at her with bright, beady, black eyes and cackled again, taking flight. It settled on another branch and looked back at her expectantly. Codi sighed.

"Sure, why not?" she muttered, and followed. "Nothing better to do."

They followed the raven deep into the forest. Just when Codi was about to give up and—well, she didn't know just what she would do—a small cottage came into view. A few chickens wandered about and Codi could see a shed with a single cow inside. The raven fluttered down from his perch and settled on a slender, outstretched hand belonging to a tall, slender woman dressed in a deep purple dress and black cloak. Her hood was up.

"I've been waiting for you," she said softly, and lowered her hood. She had tears in her eyes. "Oh, Codi...you look so much like your father..."

Codi stared at the woman in consternation. How could she possibly know her father? And how did she know her name? Yet the woman seemed familiar, though Codi couldn't think why. Perhaps it was the strange markings at the corners of her eyes, which bore a slight resemblance to Tristan's. But no, it was more than that. Codi peered closely at the woman, but still could not quite put her finger on it.

"You don't remember me at all?" the woman asked sadly. "You were only three... but surely Nick kept pictures of me?"

"How do you know my father?" Codi demanded. She could feel the hair rise on the back of her neck. "How do you know _me_?"

"Codi, Codi," the woman murmured, shaking her head. "Don't you recognize your own mother?"


	6. Chapter 6

bwahahahaha...I hope you all enjoyed the cliffie! I'll have you know I was cackling madly while I was posting it.

Wild Woman--i just remembered---you mentioned a LotR marathon. If you're an Eomer fan, I have an Eomer OC fic called Skylark that you might enjoy.

whoever asked me: I've been riding on and off for years but time (and money) always seems to run short and I have to stop my lessons.

to the general public: I've got about 130 odd pages already written, so that's why the chapters are getting posted so quickly. Once I go through all that I have, things are going to go MUCH more slowly.

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Codi could only stare, utterly speechless. When she found her voice, she answered angrily.

"My mother is dead," she snapped. "She--"

"Went missing," the woman answered for her. "When you were three years old. They never found a body."

Now that Codi looked at her, she could see that the woman bore a remarkable resemblance to the photographs of Morgan Ross. The woman in the pictures was younger, yes, and with short hair, but they were uncomfortably similar. Codi found herself comparing the eyes and nose and cheeks, becoming more and more distressed. It was impossible! It simply couldn't be.

"Will this convince you?" her mother asked, speaking in Codi's original tongue, and smiled. "You look just like your father...but you have my eyes. And my figure, if not my height."

"How?" Codi managed. "How is this happening?"

"Come inside," Morgaine said. "I think a cup of tea is in order."

Codi looped Dancer's reins lightly around a low branch and followed Morgaine inside, where she sat at a small table. Morgaine set a cup of tea in front of her and sat down across the table. She looked at Codi, then down at her tea. Then she sighed and began to tell her story.

"I was born in a small village on the other side of the forest. My mother was a goatherd's daughter and I don't know who my father is to this day. I was conceived on the eve of Beltane and my mother never saw him again. When my grandfather found out my mother was pregnant, he kicked her out of the house. She was taken in by the Woads and bore me in their village north of the wall. She married soon after and had another daughter."

"So how did you have me?" Codi asked, having accepted the fact that she was her mother.

"I was five," Morgaine said, remembering. "I'd only gone out to pick some flowers for my mother, but I got lost. I kept wandering and wandering and suddenly found myself next to a river of stone. That in itself terrified me. I nearly had a heart attack when this huge, roaring beast swept by and nearly got me." Morgaine smiled a little. "Cars are scary for five year olds born in that world, much less one who had never even seen a paved road. The next car that went by stopped and came to ask me if I was lost. Of course, I couldn't understand them, but they took me in and raised me as their own. I learned English—modern English—fairly quickly. I grew up like any other girl."

"What happened when you started taking history lessons?" Codi asked. "Surely you still remembered."

"I convinced myself that it was just a dream," Morgaine shrugged. "What could I have said? They would have thrown me in a mental institution. Anyway, I met your father in college—he was on the track team with my foster brother, who introduced us. We had you not long after we were married. It seemed like a miracle, all these wonderful things happening at once. Getting married, having a baby—and your father had just gotten the trainer's position at Sheridan Acres. But I felt like something was missing. Like I needed something--"

"That was just out of your reach," Codi finished hollowly.

Morgaine nodded, regarding her daughter compassionately, and stroked her raven's chest lightly. "I believe that's why I was called back to this world, and why you were called here. You're destiny lies here, my lass, not in modern day America. I don't know why I was sent ahead in time in the first place, but I returned to find my village burned and my kinfolk nowhere to be found."

"I thought you had convinced yourself that it was a dream," Codi said.

"Yes, well, it's hard to keep thinking that when you fully recognize the woods you're in and know your way around." Morgaine sighed. "Once I realized where I was, I was so excited...I thought I would see my mother again. When I finally found my kin, I found that my mother and sister were dead."

Codi looked at her mother shyly. "I never dreamed I would get to see my mother again. And I do remember you. Sort of."

"Oh, Codi," Morgaine whispered, and reached across the table to grasp her daughter's hand. "So many years stolen from us...I want to know everything about your life—everything I missed. Did you take to horses like your father hoped?"

"Oh, yes," Codi laughed. "My filly out there—Dad had really high hopes for her. I was just taking her on a run on the trail when we found ourselves here. And then these riders just started chasing us--"

"No, no," Morgaine said, waving her hand. "I want to know about your old life—you know, what your first day of school was like, what your friends were like, what classes you took; that sort of thing."

"My first day of school was scary," Codi remembered. "I was too shy to talk to anyone and then this big third grader stole my lunch money. I got picked on a lot, because I never resisted. I didn't have many friends." Codi grimaced. "Dad's been telling me for years that I need to learn to stand up for myself. I get it even here."

"You got that from me, I'm afraid," Morgaine laughed. "I was always a push over...but I grew out of it, and so will you. Were you all about horses or did you play sports, too?"

"Track and field," Codi said with a grin. "I was offered a scholarship at NC State and a couple of schools in California, but I wanted to stay close to home."

"Are you a sprinter or a distance runner like your father?" Morgaine asked curiously. "He placed third at nationals his senior year, you know."

"I know," Codi said, smiling. "I'm a jumper. But I guess you could say I'm a sprinter, too. My best event is the high hurtles. My coach said I had a shot at placing at nationals this year."

"How old are you now? Time seems to pass differently somehow."

"Nineteen," Codi told her. "I was a freshman. The upperclassmen weren't too happy with me."

"I wish I could have seen you race," Morgaine said wistfully. "I always like the hurtles best—it's exciting. I never told your father this, but watching the distance races is so _boring_."

Codi giggled. "That's what I said when I first started. Distance _is_ boring."

Codi told her everything, from her first kiss to the 'spank me' shorts to the chase around the fortress to Summerfair. Morgaine laughed and commiserated and congratulated her and assured her that she would grow a backbone eventually. When she came to Gawain and the problems he posed, Morgaine frowned.

"Well, it's natural to be attracted to someone close to you in age," she shrugged. "But Tristan is quite right. You need to tell this Gawain fellow to back off and stop treating you like a baby."

"How do you know Tristan?" Codi asked curiously. "Gawain said he had some 'dealings' with you and came back a changed man. Complete with tattoos and a hawk."

"I taught Tristan everything he knows about tracking and herb-lore," Morgaine said. "As I will teach you, if you are willing to learn."

"Of course," Codi cried. "Anything is better than taking care of babies all day and serving drunks all night."

"Well, you'll still serve drunks at night," Morgaine said, "but I can rescue you from babies, at least."

"That's more than enough," Codi said, rolling her eyes. "When can we start?"

"Now, if you like," Morgain said with a shrug. "No time like the present."

"Alright then..." Codi paused and looked at Morgaine. "Can—can I call you mother?"

"Well, I am your mother, aren't I?" Morgaine said with a smile. "You can call me anything you like. Except Mommy. I refused to be called Mommy by my nineteen year old." Finally the tears spilled out of her eyes. "Oh, God...my little girl..."

Codi knelt and laid her head in her mother's lap. All her life, she'd been jealous of other girls. On her first day of school, she'd been dressed in the overalls and tiny sneakers that her father had bought for her. All the other girls had worn dresses and bows in their hair that their mothers had picked out. When Codi had her first crush, she told no one. When her boyfriend in eighth grade broke up with her, she cried alone. When she had her first period, the school nurse helped her. Perhaps Codi was receiving her mother a little late, but better late than never. Perhaps she had a mother now because she needed one more than ever—someone to teach her how to live in this strange new world and guide her through its trials as her father had tried to do in her old world.

"I miss Dad," Codi whispered.

"I know, sweetie," Morgaine murmured, kissing her daughter's hair. "Me, too."

"Why do I have to trade one for the other? Why can't I have a mom _and_ a dad?"

"I don't know," Morgaine said sadly. "The pain will fade, I promise. It won't disappear, but it will fade. And someday you'll find someone to make it worth the pain—someone to help you bear it."

Codi thought of Gawain and sighed. Perhaps someday he could be that someone.

When Codi returned that evening, Vonora read her an impressively long winded lecture. Codi merely smiled and went to work, saying that she would be out all the next day, as well. Gawain went at her too. Surprisingly, it wasn't all that difficult to blow him off. She merely shrugged and told him, quite calmly, that she wasn't a child and it was just something that she had to do.

"I'm going with you, then," he said. "It's dangerous out there, Codi—there areWoads and thieves—wolves--"

"You will not," Codi said firmly. "This is mine to do and I'll thank you not to pry. It doesn't concern you."

Gawain was flabbergasted. "_Codi_--"

"Gawain, leave be," Tristan said. Codi could see the approval in his eyes.

"Are you daft?" Gawain said incredulously. "You would let a girl go out unprotected, unarmed--"

"Not a girl," Tristan said calmly. "A woman. And, judging by the knife at her belt, hardly unarmed."

"As if she knows how to use it," Gawain scoffed.

Codi gave her would-be suitor a look of deepest disgust and moved on, filling cups. Morgaine had given her the knife and had begun to teach her how to use it along with a bow and staff. The first thing to learn, she said, was how to defend herself. Codi could hear her mother's voice in her head even now. _No sense in wandering around the forest completely defenseless—whatever you're hunting will end up hunting you._ Codi was a quick study. She hadn't mastered any of her new weapons by far, but she wasn't completely incompetent.

Gawain made his apologies later that night. Codi allowed herself to be placated by tender words and kisses, but flatly refused to let him accompany her the next day. When she set out alone the next morning, she had her bow slung across her shoulder and her knife on her belt. Hearing the cry of a hawk, Codi looked up to see the familiar form wheeling above her and smiled. Not so alone, after all.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm glad you're pleased, duckies! here we go...

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As summer moved into autumn, Codi found herself happier than she'd ever been. She spent her days roving the woods with her mother, learning the ways of the forest. She found that simply learning how to function on her own did amazing things for her self-confidence. Although Gawain could still charm and cajole her when he really wanted to, Codi learned that she could say no more and more often. She found she liked this new arrangement and her feelings for Gawain grew as she found less and less reason to be irritated with him.

Codi had explained about her lessons with Morgaine to Arthur. At first he had been furious and forbidden her to go (she had no intention of obeying) but was surprised when he sought her out some time later to tell her that he'd reconsidered. She strongly suspected that Tristan had had a hand in it. Tristan was the only person she told about her mother. He listened carefully and nodded solemnly, accepting it as truth. He didn't press her for more information or demand explanations and for that, she was grateful. Codi wanted desperately to ask about his hawk and tattoos. It wasn't coincidence that both he and his former teacher had uncannily intelligent birds attached to them and tattoos representing said birds. Morgaine had crows feet at the corners of her eyes—which Codi thought was kind of funny, but that was beside the point—and Codi had long since noticed that Tristan's bore a remarkable resemblance to talons. However, Tristan never pried, so neither should she.

Or so she told herself. One day, Codi simply could not resist any longer.

"Tristan," she asked as they walked along the ramparts. "What do your tattoos mean?"

"They're for my bonny lass," Tristan said fondly, stroking his bird's chest with a finger.

"Well, I guessed that," Codi said, "but there's more to it than that, isn't here? Mother has a raven and tattoos. She said she taught you everything you knew. I know there's a connection there somewhere."

"Not everything," Tristan said mildly. "I did know some when I went to her."

"Don't avoid the question," Codi told him sternly.

Tristan sighed. "I promise, Codi, you will know some day. Perhaps within the year—who knows? When the time is right, you will know."

"That's not an answer," Codi grumbled.

"Well, tis all you're getting, my lass," Tristan said briskly, and changed the subject. "How are things between you and your husband-to-be?"

"He's not my husband to be," Codi said patiently. "Not yet, anyway."

"He seems to think differently." Tristan looked down at her gravely, but his eyes were twinkling. "Just yesterday he was pledging to name his first son after me."

"Was he drunk?" Codi snorted.

"Perhaps," Tristan said with a wicked smile. "Or perhaps not."

"Well, he can name his first son whatever he likes, but it would be _his_ son, not mine." Codi grinned impishly. "I would never name my son after you. He might take after you in habits as well as in name."

"What habits?" Tristan demanded, affronted. "My habits are perfectly respectable, thank you."

"You never comb your hair and rarely bathe," Codi said succinctly. "You spend your time drinking and gambling and trying to steal your friend's woman--"

"I do _not_," Tristan sputtered. "I bathed just yesterday--"

"Only because you came home covered in mud--"

"And I don't drink nearly as much as Gawain or Bors--"

"You can't hold your liquor!"

"And I don't gamble--"

"Yes, you do, you lost five silver pieces to Lancelot last night--"

"That was the first time in more than a year!"

"A likely story."

"And I am certainly not trying to steal you or any other woman," Tristan huffed, looking extremely disgruntled.

Codi had only rarely seen him so ruffled. She had to laugh. "Oh, Tristan, I'm only joking. If I ever had a son, I would be proud if he turned out like you."

"You are a horrible, poxy cow," Tristan muttered. "I don't know what Gawain sees in you."

"Blathering fool," she returned sweetly, and they continued on in silence until a loud, happy voice interrupted.

"Codi!" Gawain called, loping up and grabbing her hands. "Codi, come see. I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" Codi asked dubiously, slanting a glance at Tristan, who shrugged. "What kind of surprise?"

"A _good_ one," Gawain said, eyes twinkling.

"What--"

"Come and see for yourself," Gawain cried, tugging her hands. "I've just finished it."

Curious, Codi allowed Gawain to pull her away. Tristan followed, clearly as curious as she, though he didn't say anything. To Codi's surprise, Gawain led her to Vonora's house. At the door, he covered her eyes and led her inside. She could hear children chattering and whining and Vonora shushing them.

"Ready?" Gawain asked.

"Is this something I should be ready for?" Codi asked, only half jokingly. You never knew with Gawain.

Gawain chuckled and uncovered her eyes, revealing... a bed. Her own bed tucked into a corner. It was a tiny bed, one that would barely contain her, but it wasn't a pile of straw infested with bugs and rats and spiders. It even had a small pillow. Her blanket was spread neatly on top of it. Codi spun around and threw her arms around Gawain's neck.

"Gawain, this is wonderful!" she cried. "How did you manage it? Surely you didn't do it all today--"

"I cut the pieces separately and then put them together today," Gawain explained, hugging her back. "You like it?"

"I love it!" Codi exclaimed, and flopped down to prove her point. "Oh, I can't wait to go to sleep tonight..."

"Why does _she_ get her own bed?" Bors' favorite bastard, Gilly, asked. "She's just a _girl_."

"Hush," Vonora snapped. "She works harder than you do, sirrah, and you would do well to remember it."

"Mmm," Codi murmured, and wriggled about it ecstasy. Tristan shook his head in amusement and excused himself. "You're amazing, Gawain."

Gawain bent over to give her a sweet, lingering kiss. "How amazing?" he whispered.

"_Very_ amazing," Codi whispered back, and kissed him.

Vonora cleared her throat loudly. "There will be none of that under my roof," she said firmly.

Codi raised an eloquent eyebrow and looked at the cluster of bastards watching on.

"Cheeky miss," Vonora muttered.

"What she means is, there will be none of it under her roof unless she's the one doing it," Gawain said in a stage whisper. More quietly, he added. "What would you say to finding somewhere more...permissible?"

"I doubt I would be saying very much at all, if we found such a place," Codi replied with a grin. "Shall we?"

"Indeed, we shall."

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"Codi, I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

Codi looked up from Number Seven, Vonora's youngest child, who she was putting to sleep. "Leaving? Where?"

"West," Gawain replied, looking extremely unhappy. "The Irish are raiding villages along the coast."

"Oh," Codi said softly, and led him outside so they wouldn't wake the baby. In the months that she had been there, she had almost forgotten that her knights were—well, knights. Their job was more than just patrolling the Wall and helping villagers catch thieves and bandits. "How—how long will you be away?"

"Who can say?" Gawain sighed. "Maybe three weeks, maybe a month. Maybe two months, even."

Codi shifted uncomfortably and rocked Number Seven. "Are they dangerous, these Irish?"

"No more so than any I've fought," Gawain shrugged.

"But there's a chance that you could—could--"

"Aye," Gawain said quietly. "There is always a chance. But I have survived ten years of fighting men like them. I think I'll survive another couple of months."

For a moment, there was silence and then they both spoke at once.

"Gawain--"

"Codi--"

Codi gave a shaky laugh. "You go first."

"Codi..." Gawain looked down. "You know I will do my best to come back, regardless. But—I would feel better riding off tomorrow with nothing left unsaid."

"Gawain..."

"No." Gawain put a gentle finger on her lips. "Please, just...just listen. I love you, Codi. I think I loved you from the first time I held you in my arms—although I'm sure you don't remember. You were unconscious, after all."

"I thought I remembered being on a horse," Codi muttered.

"You were so small—so helpless, even though I could tell you were solid muscle." Gawain smiled softly. "I promised myself that I would protect you always. And I will, if you'll have me. Please, Codi... I want to know when I go into battle that I have something to look forward to—someone to come home to. I want you to marry me."

"Gawain--" Codi swallowed. "I...I don't know if I--"

"Codi, I would do anything—everything—to make you happy," Gawain said earnestly, holding her hands tightly in his. "I just know I would be a good husband—and a good father. I promise. Codi, look at me."

Codi looked up into his eyes for the first time and saw that he was afraid, regardless of what he had said. She felt a rush of warmth for her knight—_her_ knight, who wanted to marry her. How could she let him down now, when he needed her? She couldn't let him go into battle with such an enormous rejection on his chest.

Gawain cupped her face gently. "Please...it would make me that happiest man alive."

Codi leaned into his touch. "On one condition: you have to promise to come back safely. If you die, I shan't marry you."

Gawain, who had begun to look alarmed, let out a sigh of relief and smiled crookedly. "That sounds reasonable. I promise."

He pulled her into a tight embrace which Codi returned, burying her face in his shoulder. She didn't want him to leave. Promises would mean little to a man bent on killing him. She thought of the company returning with one riderless horse and shivered.

That night, sleep eluded Codi. But she couldn't decide if it was worry for Gawain...or if it was the little voice in the back of her mind that kept whispering, _what have I done?_


	8. Chapter 8

Now, now, we can't go killing off Gawain...he's a sweetheart, after all.

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"What the hell was I thinking?" Codi wailed a month later as she paced back and forth in her mother's cottage. "I'm not ready to get _married—_I hate children, I hate housework—I'd have to give up riding Dancer, I'd have to give up—God, Mother, I'd have to give _you _up--"

"You would have to do no such thing," her mother said crisply. "You would have to explain it to him, yes, but he would hardly forbid you to see your mother. And I highly doubt he would expect you to give up riding. From what you've told me, Gawain is a good man."

"I can't do it." Codi made a sound of extreme frustration and collapsed into a chair, burying her face in her hands.

"Then why did you say yes?" her mother wanted to know.

"Because I'm stupid?" Codi mumbled into her hands.

"You're not stupid. Momentarily foolish, perhaps, but not stupid."

Codi sighed. "How could I say no, in a situation like that? He was going off to battle—what if he were depressed and unfocused and got himself killed because of me?"

Morgaine raised an eyebrow. "You give yourself an awful lot of credit."

"_Mother_."

Morgaine sighed and came to kneel beside her daughter. "Codi, do you want to marry him?"

"Yes—no—I don't know!" Codi cried, getting up to pace again.

"Do you love him?"

"I--" Codi stopped. "Yes. Yes, I think I do. But marriage? That's huge—I mean, it's _marriage_. As in married. Forever. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure divorce doesn't exist yet."

"No, it doesn't," Morgaine agreed. "Codi, only you can make this decision. You can still say no."

"Vonora and her friends had a field day when they found out," Codi said miserably. "They've been working like mad preparing wedding clothes and new blankets and all this other crap that I'm supposed to have. They'd eat me alive if I told them the wedding was off."

"Well, then I would either make sure you've got some salt handy or stop complaining," her mother said bluntly. "You've gotten yourself into a coil and only you can get yourself out of it."

Codi rubbed her face wearily. "You're no help."

"Perhaps not," her mother said with a shrug. "I'm only telling you what you already know."

Codi glanced out the window and sighed. "I'd better go. I've work to do at the tavern."

Outside, Morgaine hugged her daughter and laid a hand on Codi's cheek. "Just remember that, in the end, you have to do what's best for _you_. No one else."

"I know," Codi sighed, and mounted Moondancer. "I might not be back for a few days." She made a face. "Wedding stuff."

"If you are back before then, am I to assume that the wedding is off?" Morgaine wondered.

Codi gave a crooked smile. "Not necessarily. It might just mean that I managed to escape for a few hours."

Codi's mind was still reeling as she rode along the track. She was completely torn. She cared for Gawain deeply, but she didn't know if she was ready to marry him. What if things went sour for some reason and they ended up hating each other? There would be no escape. What if she ended up a hassled housewife with dishes up to her elbows and children clinging to her skirts? Codi could barely stand other people's children, and yet she knew Gawain wanted children of his own.

Codi was so deep in thought that she never saw the snake that slithered across the track. But Moondancer did. With a high pitched whinny, Dancer balked and then bolted before Codi knew what was happening. Codi tried to rein her in, but Dancer had the bit in her teeth and wouldn't respond. Cursing, Codi raised her eyes and saw the wire strung across the track. With a cry of alarm, she raised her arm just in time.

On a man, the wire would have hit across the chest, scraping him neatly out of the saddle. It caught Codi's arm and neck, causing her to do a full three sixty and more. She landed heavily on her shoulders and head. One of her knees hit her cheek as they came down. Codi slowly, painfully untangled herself and took inventory of her hurts. There were deep lacerations on her forearm and throat, but it was better than a broken neck. Her cheek hurt from her knee, but she'd gotten worse during the high jump. Dancer was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, what have we here?" drawled an oily, unpleasant voice from the shadows. "A little lass who's lost her way."

Codi whipped her bow off her shoulder and nocked an arrow. "Show yourself," she rasped.

"How frightening," another laughed. "She has a bow. But can she use it?"

"Aye," Codi said harshly, but her hands were shaking.

"Not if you can't use your hand," yet another replied agreeably.

There was a flash of silver and a knife sliced deeply into the back of her hand, causing her to drop the bow. In the next moment she was surrounded by men bearing long, cruel looking knives. These were no Woads, she saw—they lacked tattoos of any sort. They were ordinary, everyday rogues. Trifles to Arthur and his men. Routine. But, to her, they were a deadly threat.

Codi pulled her knife from her belt with her good hand and lunged at the nearest man, slashing it across his throat. She cried out as blood sprayed across her face, making her gag. The others were on her in an instant, forcing her the knife from her hand and throwing her to the ground. Codi tried to reach into her boot for another knife, but found her arm pinned to the ground by a heavy boot. She struggled madly, crying with pain and fear.

"What to do with a fiery little lass like you?" the leader wondered, stroking an oily, scraggly beard. Then he smiled, revealing yellow, rotted teeth. "I know what you need. You need humbling. You need to be shown your place." His men grinned and moved closer. The leader laughed unpleasantly. "Patience, lads, patience. Each will have his turn."

"No," Codi sobbed as she felt her skirts being lifted up. "No—please--"

"That's right, lass, beg," the man laughed. "It won't do you any good."

"No—stop—_please_--"

All she could hear was their laughter. All she could feel...

Codi screamed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Tristan's head jerked up at the hawk's cry. She was winging toward him from the east. "Something's wrong."

"What?" Arthur asked, startled. "But we're nearly there. Look--there's the fort."

"I tell you, something is wrong," Tristan snapped. "East," he said intently. "Past the fortress."

Tristan kicked his horse into a run, leaving the others to catch up. The hawk soared overhead, shrieking. He ignored Arthur's call to slow down. Something was desperately wrong. Without thought, Tristan plunged into the forest, going as fast as he dared on the narrow path. Suddenly the hawk crashed down through the trees and alighted on a branch. Tristan pulled the horse up and swung out of the saddle, hurrying toward the woman crumpled in a heap halfway under a bush. Faint movement showed she was still breathing. Slowly, he eased the woman out, pausing to disengage matted, bloody hair from the bush. The others were just arriving.

"Bandits," he said grimly, and gently rolled the woman onto her back. Tristan froze and stared in shock.

"What is it?" Arthur asked sharply. "What's wrong?"

For a moment, Tristan couldn't speak. When he could, looked up to see comprehension and horror creep into Gawain's face. Gawain lurched from the saddle and fell to his knees beside Tristan.

"Oh, gods—_Codi_--"

"Give me your water," Tristan ordered, and gently set it to swollen lips crusted with blood. She coughed and spluttered but swallowed some.

"Will she be alright?" Gawain whispered fearfully.

Tristan didn't answer right away. "I don't know. We need to get her back to the fort. Quickly."

Gawain nodded.

"Slowly," Tristan snapped as Gawain gathered her into his arms. Then his tone softened. "You don't want to hurt her any more than she already is."

Tristan took Codi's limp, battered form while Gawain mounted and then handed her up to her betrothed, who cradled her gently. Fury, grief, and shock warred for dominance in Gawain's face. Tristan felt deeply sorry for his friend, who had been near senseless with joyful anticipation on the ride back.

"Come as quickly as you can," Tristan said quietly. "I will ride ahead."

Gawain was struck by the irony of the situation. This was the second time he was riding to the fort with Codi unconscious in his arms. But this time, he was not at all certain that she would live. Once again, women were waiting when they clattered through the gates. This time, however, the faces were pinched and anxious rather than curious. Tristan was there as well, looking very grim. Vonora rushed forward to take her friend from Gawain.

"She didn't come back," she muttered, tears streaming down her face. "She didn't come back—we thought she was with Morgaine—and then her horse came back without her--"

"Hush," Tristan said quietly, grasping her shoulder. "It's not your fault. You couldn't help her then, but you can help her now." He looked at Gawain. "I've sent for healers—and midwives."

"Midwives?" Galahad asked in confusion. "What do you want midwives for?"

Tristan only looked at him.

"Oh, gods, _no_--"

Gawain swallowed, ashen faced. His knuckles were white as they gripped the reins. "What can I do?"

"Nothing," Tristan said softly. "It's out of your hands, now. All you can do is wait."

"And drink while you wait," Lancelot said, making a valiant stab at lightheartedness. He dismounted and gently pried Gawain's hands off the reins. "Come on, Gawain...it will do you good."

"I promised," Gawain muttered into his ale some time later. "I promised I would come home safe. _She_ never promised to be safe. Why should she? I promised to protect her." Gawain's head wagged back and forth. "I've failed her—failed—oh, gods..."

Lancelot grasped his shoulder comfortingly. "She's strong, Gawain. She'll make it."

"Besides, Tristan's with the healers," Dagonet said reassuringly. "How many times has he tended our wounds? How many times has he pulled us through when we thought we wouldn't make it?"

"Dagonet is right," Galahad said, though he, too, looked shaken. "Tristan will set her straight."

"I'd like to find the dirty bastards," Bors muttered. "Not to kill them—_geld _them, more like--"

Gawain shot to his feet and lurched sideways as Arthur entered the tavern. "What news?"

"She's weak," Arthur said wearily. "No food and little water for two days—infection, fever—it doesn't look good, but Tristan says that she'll live if the fever breaks. They're doing all that they can."

"What can we do?" Gawain asked desperately.

Arthur spread his hands. "Wait...and pray."

"To your God or ours?" Lancelot said sourly.

"To any who might be listening," Arthur sighed, rubbing his forehead. "One of them is bound to hear."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

:hides under desk:

please don't kill me! it had to be done, I swear!


	9. Chapter 9

As a token of my deepest appologies, I'm posting another chapter (and it's longer, too!).

Hope you don't all hate me anymore

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>.

Tristan sat sprawled in a chair next to the bed, utterly exhausted. After three days, the fever had finally broken and Codi slept peacefully. He felt sick, thinking about what had happened to her. The midwives had tended the wounds only women could tend before he had been allowed to work with the healers on her neck and hand and arm. Infection had set in and he had feared the fever would take her in the end. Tristan stared into the dying embers, remembering Codi shrieking and wailing in her delirium. Gods, but he had thought she would die. Her red rimmed, glassy eyes haunted him even now, leaving him drained and empty.

"Tristan? Tristan--"

"What? Oh, aye--" Tristan blinked and looked up at the healer—what was her name?--bending over him.

"Tristan, you need rest," she said firmly. "You have done more than enough. She will be well enough, now."

Tristan smothered a yawn and levered himself to his feet, wincing. "Gawain should know--"

"He will, my lord," the healer—Shona, that was it—told him. "It will be attended to. You, however, will go straight to bed."

"Perhaps I will," Tristan agreed. Gods, he was tired... "Tend her well. She is dear to many people."

"I will," Shona promised.

Tristan nodded and left the room. In his quarters, he dropped into bed and was asleep instantly. But his was no restful slumber. His dreams were filled with wide, frightened, blue gray eyes staring senselessly into his own and pale, blue tinged lips open in a silent scream.

Tristan exited his room the next morning feeling like a herd of horses had trampled him. He couldn't count how many times Codi had died in his dreams—how many times he had gotten up in the middle of the night to check on her and found her dead. Tristan cursed wearily and nearly ran into Gawain, who came barreling down the hallway.

"Gods, Tristan," Gawain said, peering at his friend anxiously. "You look half dead."

"Not surprising," Tristan yawned. "Her fever broke last night."

"So she'll be alright?"

"Aye," Tristan said tiredly. "You can go in and see her, if you like."

Gawain grasped Tristan's shoulder gratefully. "How can I ever thank you, Tristan?"

"Saving a life requires no thanks," Tristan said brusquely. "Go on—you've waited long enough. See to your lass."

Tristan leaned against the wall and closed his eyes as Gawain slipped into the sick girl's room. She would live, Tristan reassured himself. She had to. His productive thoughts were interrupted, however, by a piercing scream. Tristan darted into Codi's room to see her pressed up against the wall, wild eyed and open mouthed, staring in terror at Gawain, who stood stock still, one hand still outstretched.

"Codi," he said desperately. "Codi—it's me--"

"Come away, Gawain," Tristan said in a low voice. "I'm sorry—I should have thought of this..."

"I don't understand—doesn't she recognize me?"

"Gawain, come," Tristan said urgently as Codi closed her eyes and began to moan in fear. He took Gawain's arm and gently guided him out of the room. "I'm sorry Gawain, I should have realized—she probably won't want to see you for a while. You or any man."

"Does she think _I_ would--" Gawain began incredulously.

"Gawain, it has nothing to do with _you_," Tristan said patiently. "Men hurt her, humiliated her, and nearly killed her. And you are a man. It doesn't matter that you are Gawain—only that you are a man. Give Codi some time."

So, they gave her time. But Codi could not bear the presence of any man, nor would she speak to anyone, not even Vonora. For a little more than a month, Tristan fought with himself over whether to send for Morgaine, who would hardly be welcomed here. Soon, however, he made his decision.

"She's _what_?"

"With child," Shona repeated calmly. "Twins, I believe. Poor lass."

"Why have you not given her herbs?" Tristan demanded.

"Herbs?" Shona looked at him blankly.

"Herbs," Tristan said impatiently. "I know there are herbs to rid a woman of an unwanted child. I don't know what they are, being a man, but--"

"I will give her no such thing," Shona snapped. "I will not kill two innocent, unborn babes."

"By the gods, woman--" Tristan grabbed her arm and dragged her into Codi's room and pointed at the sleeping girl furiously. "Look at her—does she look like she would survive childbirth?"

"That is for the gods to decide," Shona said firmly.

"Codi," Tristan said slowly, fighting to stay calm, "is so thin that I could clasp her waist in my hands and my fingers would touch—and that was before the fever. One baby would split her in half, much less _two_! You sentence her to death."

"I will not murder children," Shona hissed, eyes narrowing.

"Instead you will murder _her_," Tristan cried angrily. "I tell you, she will not--"

"Babies?" The two arguing healers looked over in shock. Codi was sitting up, blinking owlishly. "I'm going to have babies?"

"Yes," Shona said, hurrying to her side. "Oh, Codi, we've been so worried--"

"I don't want babies," Codi whispered. Her breath began to come faster. "I don't _want_ babies."

"Codi--"

"Get rid of them."

"Codi, listen--"

Codi jerked away from Shona's touch. "Get _rid_ of them! Get them out! Out!"

"Codi, I can't," Shona said soothingly.

Tristan moved forward. "Don't worry, Codi, I'll find--"

"You will do nothing," Shona snapped waspishly. "Codi, we can't get rid of the babies."

"Then I will," Codi snarled desperately, and lunged for the knife at Tristan's belt.

Tristan stepped back and caught Codi's wrists, struggling to hold her back. "Codi—Codi, be easy--"

"Get rid of them," Codi sobbed. "Tristan—Tristan, please..."

Shona rose from the hearth where she had feverishly mixed a brew and tipped it down Codi's throat before she could protest. Within minutes, her movements slowed and she sagged against Tristan, who carefully laid her down. Without a word, he stormed from the chamber and out to the ramparts, where he raised his arm to receive the hawk.

Gently, he thumbed her beak. "Aye, you know what to do. Quickly, my lass, quickly—go--" he launched the hawk into the air and followed her with his eyes as she winged toward the forest.

"What are you doing?" Tristan turned to see Arthur looking at him guardedly.

"I'm saving Codi's life," Tristan snapped. "They are fools, Arthur—there is no way Codi can bear twins and live."

"_Twins_." Arthur stared at him in shock. "Codi is with child?"

"Children," Tristan corrected bitterly. "Aye."

"Well, what is there to do?" Arthur wondered. "Unless she miscarries--"

"That is exactly what she will do," Tristan said grimly. "There are herbs to induce miscarriage. Herbs that Shona refuses to give her."

"You would kill two innocent children?" Arthur asked. He sounded disturbed.

"Aye," Tristan cried in frustration. "I don't think you understand, Arthur. It is a choice between Codi and the babies. One or the other will die. Would you let her die to save her rapist's offspring? If you won't think of her, you might think of Gawain, man. Would you let his betrothed die after all the time that he's waited for her?"

Arthur bowed his head, looking suitably chastened. "I'm sorry, Tristan. Do whatever you believe necessary."

Tristan let out a heavy breath. "I already have."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>.

Tristan returned to Codi's room some time later to find Shona and several other women trying to force more sleeping potion down her throat. Shaking with rage, he stalked over and bodily threw the women out of the room, including Shona, and blocked the doorway with his body, daring them to argue. Several did.

"She needs rest!" one fretted.

"Then get out and let her rest," Tristan said calmly.

"The girl's gone mad," another hissed.

"Tristan," Shona said in a would-be calm voice. "She keeps trying to cut herself or beat herself—if we don't make her sleep, she could bring serious harm to herself or the babies."

"Aye, let us not harm the babies," Tristan sneered, and shut the door in their faces. He set a chair in front of it and turned to face Codi, who crouched on the bed, trembling. "It's alright now, Codi. The babies will be gone soon. I've sent for your mother."

"My mother," Codi sighed, and all at once collapsed onto the bed. "My mother is coming for me?"

"Yes."

"Tristan," she said, looking at him intently. "You cared for me—when I was sick. I remember—you sang to me, I think. And you kept Ga—the men away. And now you've saved me yet again. You've done more for me than anyone else. I won't forget."

"Just rest, Codi," he said gently, keeping his distance. "Your mother will be here soon."

Tristan slipped out of the room and stood guard outside, glaring at the flustered women hovering about. They stayed stubbornly where they were, but none moved to go inside. Clearly they thought they could outlast him. Tristan almost laughed. Gawain soon came by—he had taken to looking in on Codi several times a day—and looked from the women to Tristan in confusion.

"Tristan, what's going on?" he asked.

"This brute is preventing us from giving your future bride the care she needs," one squawked, pointing an accusatory finger. "Call him off."

Gawain looked at Tristan, who shook his head disgustedly. "Gawain, Codi is pregnant with twins. These women would rather let her bear the children and die rather than give her herbs to induce miscarriage."

Gawain stared in shock at the women. "Is this true?"

"It is not certain that she would die," Shona said defensively.

Tristan snorted. "I doubt she would even survive to bear them."

"She's so thin," Gawain said dazedly. "Can two babies even fit inside of her?"

"No," Tristan said succinctly, and crossed his arms.

"She needs to rest!" one woman shrieked. "She'll hurt herself."

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Does it sound like she's hurting herself?"

Indeed, there was nothing from the room to indicate Codi was moving around at all. The women looked suspiciously at him.

"What did you do?"

"I reassured her that she won't have to bear the children," he said with a shrug, and looked at them levelly. "And she won't. I've sent for Morgaine."

"The witch?" Shona spat, and got right in his face. "Who are you to do such a thing? Under whose authority do you invite a sorceress into our midst?"

"Arthur's," Tristan said coldly. "And Morgaine has infinitely more right to be here than any of you."

"What right is that?" Shona scoffed.

"A mother's right," came a silky voice from the shadows. Morgaine stepped into view. Her voice was deceptively calm. "What right do you claim?"

Shona narrowed her eyes. "_Mother_--"

"Yes, mother," Morgaine agreed, and motioned for Tristan to open the door. "Tristan, if you would be so kind?"

Tristan bowed with a small smirk and opened the door for her. His former teacher swept by him into the room. Tristan followed, leaving the door open. None made any move to enter. Codi sat up, smiling for the first time in a month.

"Mother," Codi breathed in her native tongue as Morgaine embraced her. "Mother, they want--"

"I know, sweetheart," Morgaine crooned, rocking her daughter back and forth. "I won't let them. I'm here now."

"You'll get rid of the babies?"

"I promise." Morgaine laid a cool hand on her forehead. "Sleep now, Codi. Sleep." Codi slept. Morgaine looked up at Tristan. "Have her horse prepared—and yours as well. I doubt she can stay on board."

"And you, my lady?" Tristan asked.

Morgaine smiled. "I have...other means."

"Aye," Tristan laughed. "I had forgotten..." he bowed again and left, taking Gawain with him.

"Tristan," Gawain said. "Where is she going?"

"To recover with her mother," Tristan told him. "Don't worry, Gawain. She'll come back. It may be weeks or months, but she will return."

"Morgaine is really her mother?" Gawain asked dubiously.

"Aye."

"Why did she never tell me?" Gawain wondered unhappily. Then he narrowed his eyes at Tristan. "You knew. How?" When Tristan didn't answer, Gawain cursed. "She told you didn't she? She told you, but never told the man she meant to marry. And she spoke to you, let you near her when she looked at me like I was a monster."

"Gawain--"

"I should have known," Gawain muttered. "All those walks along the ramparts—long rides—I _trusted _you."

"Gawain, there is nothing like that between us," Tristan said firmly. "Have you thought that it is _because_ you are her betrothed that she reacted the way she did? Have you forgotten what comes after a wedding? What makes you think she would want any of it, now?"

"Swear," Gawain said tightly, grasping Tristan's arm. "Swear by all the gods that you didn't—you've never--"

"I swear, Gawain," Tristan said quietly. "Now, come help me ready the horses. The sooner she leaves, the sooner she can come back."

They readied the horses and then returned to Codi's chamber, where Morgaine sat stroking her daughter's hair and singing softly in a tongue unknown to him. Morgaine looked up and smiled softly.

"You are Gawain," she stated.

"I am," Gawain replied guardedly.

"You wished to marry my daughter?"

Gawain swallowed. "I still do, lady...if she'll have me."

"You would take to wife a despoiled woman?" Morgaine asked coolly.

"Aye, lady...she's lost not a whit of value in my eyes," he said firmly. "And I'll break the head of any man who says otherwise."

"It does you credit," Morgaine said with a sigh. "Come, bring her to the stables, but Tristan will bear her into the wood. Where we go, you cannot follow."

Gawain gathered Codi into his arms. As he turned to leave, Morgaine put a gentle hand on his arm and searched his eyes.

"You are a good man, Gawain," she told him. "But you are not meant for my daughter. My advice to you is to forget your love for her. When Codi returns, she will not be the girl you knew."

"That is for Codi to decide," Gawain said stiffly, and turned away.

But as he watched Tristan ride away with his beloved, he knew in his heart that Morgaine was right. And it hurt. Gods, but the knowledge hurt. He didn't know which hurt more: knowing that she would not have him or knowing that he had to stop loving her. Gawain turned away and walked slowly back to his chambers.


	10. Chapter 10

I'm sorry, but it had to be done! And Gawain will get over it. Eventually.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Codi lay in her mother's bed, panting and sweating.

"You didn't tell me it would hurt that much," she grunted.

"Oh, it wasn't that bad," Morgaine chided, gathering up soiled rags. "Just a bit of cramping."

"Worst fucking cramps _I've _ever had," Codi grumbled. "I don't want to know what sort of cramps you're used to."

"Language, miss," Morgaine said tartly, and brought her some hot broth. "Here, drink this."

Codi drank it down gratefully and lay back, looking at her mother with tired eyes. "I was so scared, Mother...even after the fever was gone I was so afraid. Gawain came--" Codi closed her eyes. "I barely recognized him. All I could see was—the others. I hurt him badly."

"Will you go back to him when you return?" Morgaine asked, though she was fairly sure of the answer.

"No," Codi said, closing her eyes. "I want no part of him...or any man. I don't want to go back."

"You don't have to go back until you're ready," Morgaine assured her. "As for wanting no man...don't speak too soon, my girl. Wounds heal, even those of the heart."

Codi only grunted.

"We'll see," Morgaine told her. "We'll see."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Codi spent the winter recovering her strength and learning more about tracking and healing with her mother. Codi eagerly learned all that Morgaine could teach her of fighting and defense, but it wasn't so much, really—she was a hunter and healer, not a warrior. Sometimes Codi thought of Vonora and her bastards and Arthur and his knights, but a cold hand seemed to grasp her heart whenever she thought of going back. During the long months, she learned what it was to really have a mother. It was one thing to visit every day—and quite another to live with her. But she came to love and cherish her mother nonetheless, just as much as if they had never been separated.

When spring came, Morgaine surprised her one day with a gift.

"It's your birthday," Morgaine told her, laughing. "Well, maybe not exactly...but it's early March. That's close enough."

"What is it?" Codi asked curiously, fingering the bundle of blankets in which the gift was concealed.

"Open it and see," Morgaine urged.

Codi complied and brought forth two long knives engraved with runes. She hefted one, grinning. The balance was perfect. She looked curiously at her mother.

"Where did you get these?" she asked.

"They were mine when I was somewhat younger," Morgaine said with a wry grin. "But you will have more need of them than I."

"Why?" Codi asked, startled.

Morgaine sighed. "Now that spring is on her way, I think it's time to send you to those who can give you a more...thorough education."

Codi frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The remains of my old village now resides some distance north of the Wall—not too far; perhaps three days' walk." Morgaine smiled. "The Woads will teach you what I cannot. I am no great fighter, myself."

"Are you coming with me?" Codi asked, almost fearfully.

"I will accompany you on the journey and visit with my family awhile, but then I will return here," Morgaine said. Seeing Codi's face, she added, "Codi, you're twenty years old. You're old enough to survive without your mama."

"How long?" Codi asked, unsure of how she felt about this news.

"As long as is necessary," Morgaine said simply.

"Necessary for what?"

"You'll know when it's time to come home," Morgaine told her, completely ignoring Codi's question. "Come, we must prepare."

"We're leaving _now_?"

Morgaine frowned at her. "No, not now...we still need to get ready, don't we?"

Codi rolled her eyes. "Fine," she muttered. "Be that way."

Mother and daughter trudged into the Woad village a few days later with Morgaine's raven fluttering over head. Codi had been extremely unhappy to learn that she must leave Moondancer with her mother, who promised to take good care of her. Dancer might be well cared for, Codi thought, but she had no doubt that the filly would be fat and out of shape the next time they saw one another. Morgaine had left enough hay for a few days for Dancer and the cow and had hinted that Tristan might drop by to take care of them while she was away.

They were greeted by a liberally tattooed old man who seemed suspiciously agile for one his age. Morgaine embraced him with a broad grin and gabbled something at him in a strange language. Inwardly, Codi groaned. Another language to learn, only from scratch this time. Wonderful. Well, she had wanted to study languages...

"Codi, this is my foster father," Morgaine said. Her grin was sly this time. "Merlin."

Codi jaw dropped open. "You're joking."

"No," Morgaine said, eyes twinkling. "All legends have some basis in fact."

"This is too bizarre," Codi muttered.

"Well, bizarre or not, he's your grandfather," Morgaine said. "Sort of. Say hello."

Codi greeted him in Old English and was relieved when he returned the greeting in the same tongue.

"Don't get too excited," Morgaine muttered. "He fully expects you to learn their language."

"You are welcome here, little one," he said solemnly. "We are your people. You must not forget that." Codi nodded, though she was kind of confused. Merlin continued, much less solemnly. "Come, you must be weary. And you shall meet my granddaughter. She will show you where to sleep."

"What is your granddaughter's name?" Codi asked as they walked, trying to make conversation. She noticed her mother grinning again.

"Guinevere," Merlin said proudly. "She is your cousin. Her mother was your mother's half sister."

"I have a cousin?" Codi asked delightedly. "That's wonderful."

"I think you'll get along," Morgaine said. "I haven't seen her in many years, but she was a sweet girl."

"She is sweet," Merlin agreed, "when she wishes to be."

"And when she does not?" Codi asked curiously.

Merlin shook his head, smiling fondly. "Woe to any who encounter her."

Morgaine elbowed her daughter in the ribs. "You could learn a thing or two from her. From what he's told me, she's the queen of Stand-Up-For-Yourself."

"Ah, here she is," Merlin said, indicating a girl built remarkably like Codi, but a bit taller. She had brown hair a little lighter than Codi's and warm, honey brown eyes. Codi could see tattoos snaking up one of her arms, which were bare despite the chill. A bow swung from her hand. "Guinevere, do you remember Morgaine?"

Guinevere smiled and embraced her mother's sister. "Vaguely. It's been years."

Morgaine laughed. "That it has. You've grown up."

"Who's this?" Guinevere asked, looking curiously at Codi.

"My daughter," Morgaine said proudly. "Codi."

"I have a cousin?" Guinevere exclaimed. "That's wonderful!"

Morgaine and Merlin laughed and Codi smiled shyly.

"What?" Guinevere asked in confusion. "What's funny?"

"I said the same thing," Codi told her.

Guinevere grinned at her. "Oh, that's odd! I'm so glad to have someone my age to talk to. All the other women are either married with children or practically children themselves."

"How old are you?" Codi asked curiously.

"I turned nineteen at midwinter," Guinevere explained. "Technically, I could have married ages ago, but I haven't found a man worth it yet."

"I just turned twenty," Codi said, "but it's close enough."

"Why aren't you married?" Guinevere asked, peering at Codi. "You're quite pretty."

Codi blinked in surprise. "Not really. The women—and most of the men—at the fort always said I look like a boy."

"Bah," Guinevere said scornfully. "The Britons like to marry pigs, not women."

"Why don't you take Codi home?" Merlin suggested pointedly. "Morgaine and I have things to discuss."

As Codi followed Guinevere through the village, her cousin continued to interrogate her.

"I notice you said _most_ of the men," Guinevere said shrewdly. "Some didn't?"

"One," Codi said uncomfortably. "Gawain. He wanted to marry me."

"Why didn't you?"

"Certain—certain circumstances," Codi said, and looked away.

"You were raped, weren't you?" Guinevere asked bluntly, but her eyes were compassionate. "I know the look. My friend, Tari, was raped by a Roman soldier before she married."

"She got married?" Codi asked, taken aback. "After—after that?"

"A long time after," Guinevere elaborated. "A very long time. But yes."

Codi shuddered. "I want nothing to do with men," she said darkly. "Nothing."

"That's what she said, in the beginning," Guinevere told her. "But she healed, and was stronger. Of course, some never do heal. I think you will, though." Guinevere smirked and shoved Codi playfully. "You're _my_ cousin, after all."

Codi grinned. She liked Guinevere's bouncy forthrightness. "Aye, well, we'll see. It would have to be an extremely worthwhile man."

"Why has your mother brought you here?" Guinevere asked, changing the subject as if the topic of men bored her. "Not that I'm complaining, mind, but twenty years seems a long time to wait for a visit."

"She's taught me all she can of fighting," Codi said with a grim set to her mouth. "I want to learn more—so no man will ever force me again. So no man will even think of it."

A fire lit in Guinevere's eyes as they stopped in front of a small house. "Aye, we can teach you that, and more. Here's the house and all that—you've your knives with you? We'll start now!"

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Spring came and the forest seemed to explode with life. Codi felt like something inside her had exploded the same way. She hadn't felt so alive since the first time she had ridden a horse by herself. She spent her days with Guinevere and the other young women of the village, learning to fight two-handed with her knives—and without anything at all. She learned the language of her adopted people and made more friends than she'd ever had either at Hadrian's Wall or in West Virginia. The Woad women readily accepted her and Codi found that she could relax with them.

The same could not be said of the men. After months of being told she looked like a boy, Codi was surprised to find that she was attractive in the Woads' eyes. This knowledge did not please her and she did everything she could to discourage them. She soon had a reputation for being cold and grim. Once, some young buck thought he would try his luck and was shot down with a mercilessness that surprised Codi as much as the crushed young man. From then on, men began referring to her as "the she-wolf".

Still, Codi fit in easily with her mother's people and learned their customs and values—including a hatred of all things Roman. She was happy to hunt and run races and spar and flit through the trees—both on the ground and above it—like a wraith. The Woads were properly appreciative of her speed and agility, which served her well, whether it was in a fight or on the hunt. She even received a tattoo after she made her first major kill on her own. It had been almost an accident, really. Codi had been looking for some herbs Merlin wanted (he had taken over Codi's healing tutelage) when she came across a majestic old stag. He had barely moved as she shot him—in fact, she could have sworn he bowed his head to her as the shaft went home. Codi thanked and honored the stag as she had been taught and dragged it home with effort. Tattoos resembling antlers now spread over her shoulders from a knot design between her shoulder blades. Codi was intensely proud of it.

Soon after, on a cold, rainy day in late November, Guinevere bounced up to Codi and Tari, who were sparring, with a fierce grin on her fey face and announced that they were leaving. Tari returned her grin, but Codi frowned in confusion.

"Going where?" she asked.

"To fight," Tari told her with savage glee.

"Fight who?"

"There's a party of Romans--" Guinevere spat the name like an epithet "heading south to the Wall. Some fat lord grown weary of our company, no doubt."

"But we can't let them go so soon," Tari cried mockingly, and smiled evilly. "They'll never reach the Wall if we have anything to say of it. The Romans should never have come in the first place."

"But, since they have, they won't leave alive," Guinevere said harshly.

Codi felt her own excitement grow. The Romans were invaders and her people's mortal enemy. In the months she had been with the Woads, she had visited countless villages pillaged by the Romans to tend wounds and bury the dead. What she saw had sickened her—the Romans had killed men and children alike, but it was the women's fate that made her stomach churn. So many had been raped as she had been raped, but killed afterward or simply left to die. Codi hadn't been in battle yet, but now she found she was more than ready. Briefly, she thought of Arthur and his unwavering loyalty to Rome, but she pushed the thought from her mind.

"When are we leaving?" Codi asked.

"That's the spirit!" Guinevere cried. "We leave tomorrow at first light. They're still a couple of days away, so we'll meet them."

"And slaughter them like they've slaughtered us," Tari said grimly. As an after thought, she added, "I'd better go—my youngest isn't quite weaned yet."

Codi shook her head and followed Guinevere to the small house they shared with Merlin to prepare. The rest of the day was spent in a flurry of activity and they were ready before dawn the next morning. The journey was short and uneventful, but there was, once again, a burst of activity once they reached their campsite. When the work was done, several men and women danced around the fire and prayed while others, including Codi, prepared blue war-paint. She didn't feel like dancing—in fact, she felt kind of sick.

"What's wrong?" Guinevere asked, sitting beside her.

"Just nerves, I think," Codi replied with a weak smile.

Guinevere frowned. "Ask Merlin to mix you something before you go to sleep. It won't do for you to be tossing and turning all night."

"I will," Codi promised, and continued to mix paint.

As she worked, she thought of everything but the battle ahead. She wondered whether Arthur and his knights felt this way before battle. Probably not, she decided. They'd been doing it for more than a decade, after all. Codi sighed. She didn't want to go back, but...she missed them. She missed Lancelot's charm and Bors' dirty jokes and Tristan's quiet companionship and advice. She missed Dagonet and Arthur and Vonora and Galahad—and Gawain. Codi was surprised to find that she missed Gawain as much as any of her knights. The only things she didn't miss were his kisses and his marriage proposal.

"Thinking deep thoughts?" Guinevere asked lightly, returning once more.

"Not really," Codi sighed. "Just thinking about old friends."

"The Britons?" Guinevere inquired somewhat distastefully.

"Sarmatians," Codi corrected her absently. "They were drafted into the Roman army ten years ago."

"Arthur and his knights!" Guinevere breathed. "I've heard stories of them. They say Arthur's mother was a Briton."

"His heart belongs to Rome," Codi said, shaking her head.

"You miss them," Guinevere stated, searching Codi's face.

"Aye."

"Will you go back?"

Codi shrugged. "Someday, perhaps. Not anytime soon."

"Good," Guinevere said. "I don't want to lose my cousin so soon."

Codi flashed her a grin. "You won't get rid of me that easily."

"Come on," Guinevere laughed. "We should get some sleep. We've a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Codi did as her cousin suggested and went to Merlin. He listened silently while she explained her trouble, then motioned for her to sit in front of him. Codi sat somewhat nervously, seeing that her foster-grandfather was in one of his 'mystical moods', as she called them. His eyes were unfocused yet eerily sharp at the same time. Merlin took her face in his hands. He was looking straight into Codi's eyes and yet there was no eye contact—it was as if he were looking right through her.

"There is a power inside you," he murmured. "A great force waiting to be let loose." Merlin's eyes seemed to see into her very soul. "A wolf—yes, a fierce she wolf, swift and strong. Loyal to the death and quick to protect what is hers."

This wasn't what she had come for, Codi thought uneasily. "Merlin--?"

"Let her loose," Merlin said intently. "Let loose the wolf inside you. You have come far, little one, but still you cling to your past. Shake off the chains that bind you and know yourself free. Only then can you know true happiness."

Abruptly, awareness came back into Merlin's eyes. He smiled at her and handed her a mug from beside the fire. "Here, I thought you might need this," he said. "It will bring you sleep."

Deeply confused, Codi drank down the potion and went to the tent she and Guinevere were sharing with a couple of other women. As promised, the potion brought her sleep—a little too quickly. Codi fell asleep sprawled halfway across Guinevere's pallet with one boot still on.

_The she wolf stalked her prey slowly, placing each foot with infinite care and patience. The doe was small—she could take it on her own. A fire burned within her chest. She needed no one—no mate, no pack—she was a free soul. The she wolf's eyes blazed as she crept silently closer. She would make this kill—she would run the doe to the ground and rip out her throat. She was fast and strong, but the she wolf was faster and stronger still. She wanted the kill—wanted it, needed it—she was so hungry--_

Codi awoke abruptly, breathing hard. What in the world was that about? She could still feel the she-wolf's hunger—the _need _for the kill as well as the food. The deer's scent was still in her nostrils. Codi sat up and saw that Guinevere was still asleep. It was dark outside, but she knew it would be time to get up soon, anyway. Codi tugged on the one boot she had managed to get off the night before and slipped outside.

Merlin was waiting for her at a small fire. He looked up at her solemnly and offered her a bowl of soup. She ignored it.

"What did you give me last night?" she snapped.

"Just the sleeping drought," Merlin replied, puzzled. "Why?"

Codi's anger fled, leaving her unsettled and confused. "I—I dreamed--"

"Ah," Merlin said, eyes lighting up. "What did you dream?"

Codi told him, describing the intense sensations and unsettling clarity of her dream. Merlin listened silently and nodded when she finished.

"That was none of my doing," he told her. "You would do well to pay heed to such dreams—they are of the gods."

Codi nodded, not wanting to offend him, but mentally rolled her eyes. Sent from the gods, indeed. She ate the soup and drank a cup of hot tea as the camp began to wake up. Codi had expected to feel at least nervous, if not panic stricken, as they prepared to attack. Yet she felt oddly calm as Merlin dotted and decorated her face with blue war paint. It was as if she had gone somewhere else and left a void that was waiting to be filled. But by what?

Codi had her answer as they flitted through the wood like wraiths. She felt uncomfortably familiar sensations began to creep through her veins. It was just adrenaline, she assured herself. It had nothing to do with dreams. It was simply nerves, and chemicals, and fight-or-flee instincts—purely human instincts—that was setting her blood on fire.

They stopped at the edge of the wood and waited silently until they could see a party of Romans approaching through pockets of mist. Something inside Codi stirred. _Prey_. Codi's eyes narrowed and her lip rose in a silent snarl. She would make her kill. She would prove to everyone—and to herself—that she could take charge of her own fate. That no man would—could—ever again force her. She would prove herself strong enough, fierce enough, to be free.

As a single entity, the raiding party erupted from the wood and fell upon the startled Roman soldiers. They were stunned for a moment only. They quickly came to their senses and fought with an intensity that Codi threw back at them tenfold. Whatever she lacked in size and strength, she made up for with speed, agility, and utter ferocity. She never stopped to think; she moved from one opponent to the next, slashing and ducking and stabbing.

A soldier knocked Codi's knife from her hand. She flew straight at him, ducking under his sword, and lunged at him. His horse shied away, unbalancing him and allowing Codi to pull him out of the saddle. Baring her teeth, she raked her nails across his face and dug them into his eyes. The soldier screamed, clutching his face, and staggered away.

Hesitating a moment only, Codi snatched up a discarded spear and small battle ax and swung into the saddle. She held the reins out of the way with her teeth and guided the horse with her knees, urging him toward the other mounted soldiers. Codi swung the ax into an unsuspecting soldier's neck and left it there—it was too heavy, anyway. Codi grinned savagely at the shock on the Romans' faces and fought on with her spear until she heard Merlin's horn signal a retreat. Why? she wondered. They were winning--

Codi looked to the south and saw seven riders approaching at full speed. Stomach twisting, she slid out of the saddle and darted back into the wood. The fire that had coursed through her before and during the battle was fading—horror and nausea were quickly taking its place. She looked around frantically for Guinevere and Tari and breathed a sigh of relief to see them unharmed, although filthy and covered in blood.

"You're hurt," Merlin murmured, suddenly appearing beside her.

"What? Oh--" Codi stared dumbly at the blood seeping from her shoulder. "I never even noticed--"

"It is nothing serious," Merlin assured her. "But it should be attended to. Come."

Codi looked back only once as he led her away. Arthur and Lancelot were helping a lady and her small son onto horses while the others aided the wounded. Tristan looked up and seemed to be staring right at her—but he merely scanned the tree line and turned his attention back to his patient. Unsmiling, Codi turned and faded into the forest.


	11. Chapter 11

M: I don't think anyone who reads fanfictions at all has any right to speak of immaturity, really. Fanfics are simply fun, not serious works of literature. If you want something more mature, go read Milton or Thoreau or someone equally stuffy.

with that said...

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Codi threw up after that first battle—and after the second, as well. But, after the third, she retained the contents of her stomach. Her twenty-first birthday passed and, with it, the last vestiges of the girl she had once been. Gone was the shy, meek maid only just learning to stand up for herself—in her place stood a strong, self confident young woman. Codi's mother visited for her birthday and was well pleased with the results of Codi's stay. She asked Codi if it was time for her to return and did not push when Codi replied negatively.

Morgaine and Codi spent several days catching up. Codi told her about the dream she had the night before her first battle and the dreams and feelings of longing and emptiness that had plagued her since then. Morgaine simply nodded and smiled mysteriously, much to her daughter's frustration.

When Codi fell ill a week later, everyone but Merlin and Morgaine were concerned, and none more so than Codi. She moaned and wailed through her fever, muttering feverishly of emptiness and an intense need—but of what, she didn't know.

"Mother," she gasped. "Mother—I'm empty—so _empty. _Lonely I need to go--"

"Not quite yet, my lass," Morgaine said soothingly. "Soon, I promise—but not yet. You wouldn't make it three feet beyond the door."

"Need—need_ something—_what is it? What—what--?"

Codi's fever broke, but the longing inside her did not. Unable to wait any longer, she threw back the bedclothes and crept through the slumbering village to the forest beyond. Barefoot, she made no sound. Codi all but ran through the forest until she came to a small clearing illuminated by the light of the moon. There she stopped, knowing that she had reached her destination.

A chill ran up Codi's spine as a wolf howled in the distance. In it she heard the echo of her own longing and loneliness. Codi closed her eyes as the pain flared up anew. Closing her eyes, she fell to her knees and gasped for breath. The wolf cried out once more, closer this time—more urgent. Codi looked up to see a large silver form burst from the wood and hurl itself straight at her.

Codi cried out as the wolf tackled her and knocked her onto her back. The twisting pain in her spirit was gone. She was so overcome with relief that she almost didn't notice the large, rough tongue that had made its acquaintance with her face. Once the shock passed, Codi laughed and wrapped her arms around the wolf's neck, glorying in the sense of fulfillment. She was no longer empty—_this _was what she had longed for. This was what she had needed.

After a few minutes, Codi and the wolf disentangled themselves and simply looked into each other's eyes. She knew his thoughts—not in words, but she could feel them as she did her own. She knew that he could sense her thoughts and feelings just as easily. This revelation renewed their joy, resulting in a playful wrestling match. Codi spent the rest of the night running through the forest and romping with her newfound companion.

As dawn approached, Codi decided reluctantly that she should probably return to the village. Her mother must be worried sick. As they made their way toward the village, Codi could sense the wolf's apprehension. She reassured him as best she could—she didn't know what his reception would be like, herself—and they continued on together.

A harsh caw startled her from her communion the wolf. Codi looked up to see her mother's raven regarding her with bright eyes from a low branch. She grinned up at the bird, happy that she now knew the mystery behind him and Tristan's hawk and that she was now a part of it. The wolf's ears perked up as he greeted the raven with a cheerful wag of his tail. The raven cackled and led the way back to the village.

Morgaine and Merlin were waiting for her with the entire village gathered behind them. Codi slowed and this time it was the wolf who reassured her and nudged her forward. Morgaine beamed and embraced her daughter, then knelt and looked solemnly into the wolf's eyes.

"You are welcome here," she told him. "We are honored by your presence, and your bond with my daughter."

Codi's contentment and pride thrummed through her twofold, reverberating in the link between her and the wolf. Morgaine took her hands and led her to the fire, where a figure knelt with his back toward her, mixing something in a bowl. Codi's breath caught in her throat. It couldn't be...

Tristan turned around and Codi could see the smile that spread across his face. He caught her, laughing, as she threw herself into his arms with more abandon than she had thought possible. She hadn't realized till just now just how much she had missed her friend. Codi stepped back, still grinning, and looked him over as he did the same. He had a new scar along his jaw, but he was still Tristan.

"You've changed," he said simply.

"You haven't," she returned. "What are you doing here?"

"Your mother sent word that you had fallen ill," Tristan explained. "I arrived barely an hour after you left."

"You came simply because I was ill?" Codi asked sceptically.

"More because I knew why you were ill," Tristan told her. "I wanted to be here for your Marking—and to bring you back with me."

Codi opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. It _was_ time to go back. "What do you mean, my 'Marking'?"

In answer, Tristan pointed to the talon tattoos on his cheek bones and the bowl at his feet—ink, Codi realized. Merlin came and motioned for her to kneel before the fire. Codi did so, threading her fingers through the wolf's fur, and waited. Merlin sat cross-legged before her and took a needle. Morgaine stood behind her and placed her hands on Codi's head.

"By the power of the White Lady, the Triple Goddess—the Maiden, the Mother, the Crone—I welcome you, my daughter, to her service. We now count you among her most blessed."

Codi was at first surprised, then smiled at the wolf. She was indeed blessed. And if it was the White Lady of the Moon who had so blessed her, then Codi would honor her for it.

"Do you accept this wolf, her gift?"

"I do."

"And do you offer your loyalty and service in return?"

Only fleeting hesitation. "Aye."

"Then let her be Marked."

It didn't take long—not nearly as long as her first tattoo had. When Merlin was done, two fang shapes curved down from just below the corners of her eyes, framing her face. It smarted, but Codi was more content than she had ever been. Morgaine pulled Codi to her feet and embraced her, as did Merlin and Tristan.

"Come," Merlin said. "There is more to be said, but in private."

He led the way to his tent, where the four of them sat comfortably. Tristan's hawk rested on his shoulder and Morgaine's raven on her knee. The wolf settled himself beside her with his head resting on her knee.

"This is Ashai," Tristan said without preamble, indicating the hawk.

"And this Tau," Morgaine added. The raven fluffed his feathers importantly. "We would know the wolf's name."

Codi was about to protest that she didn't know his name, but simply stated, "Shasa." The wolf thumped his tail, grinning smugly.

Merlin nodded. "Never tell anyone else his name, for names hold more power than you might think. If ever you need Tristan or your mother, you need only speak Ashai or Tau's name and they will be notified. This method of communication is to be used only in extremity."

"We won't know anything but that you are calling," Tristan explained. "So we will assume that you are in dire need."

"If you just want to chat, find another way of getting the message across," Morgaine added dryly. "Or, if you have need of something specifically, you could send Shasa with a message that Tau can then convey to me. Only use the name trick if there is no alternative."

Codi nodded solemnly, then thought of something. Frowning, she asked Merlin, "Where is your familiar?"

Merlin smiled. "I have no one familiar...I share a bond with all the animals and have recourse to all the gifts."

"What gifts?" Codi asked in confusion.

"I Heal, I See, and I Change," Merlin said calmly.

"I Heal, and I Change," Morgaine told her.

"I am but a lowly Healer," Tristan said ruefully, "but it is enough, I think."

"What do you mean, Change?" Codi asked suspiciously, and then felt her jaw drop. She closed her eyes tightly and then opened them again. She hadn't been seeing things. There were now two ravens where her mother had been and a grizzled old wolf in Merlin's place.

"Holy shit," Codi muttered, and was glad Merlin couldn't understand what she said. He was very strict about such things.

"Language, miss," her mother said sternly, clearly human once more. So was Merlin.

"How—how--?"

"The Lady is generous with her gifts," Merlin said softly. "You could have any and all of these powers."

"How will I know?" Codi asked eagerly, gripping Shasa's fur tightly. The silvery wolf didn't seem to mind.

"I am fairly certain you have the Sight in some capacity," Merlin said, regarding her thoughtfully. "Your dreams are an indication of that. Healing is a possibility, although I don't think so...you don't have a Healer's touch. As for the Change...only time will tell."

Codi expelled a gust of air. It was rather a lot to take in. "So...what happens now?"

"You come back with me," Tristan told her firmly. "Past time you were home again, my lass. We've missed you."

"This is my home," Codi retorted.

"A home is wherever you make one," Tristan shrugged.

"You will go," Merlin said in a tone that brooked no argument. "You have a task to fulfill."

"And what is that?" Codi asked warily.

"Very simple," Merlin said. "Protect Arturius and fight by his side."

Codi leaped to her feet. "I will not fight for Rome," she said hotly. "Never."

"You will do as I bid you."

"But—Merlin, I would be fighting _you—_fighting my own people..."

"You will not be fighting me or our people if I can help it," Merlin told her. "But you _will_ fight for Arthur—not for Rome, but for the man who will one day rule us."

Codi gaped at him. "What?"

"One day Arthur will save our land and, in doing so, unite it." Merlin regarded her intently. "This is your task. Protect him—he will see to the rest himself. Do you accept your task?"

"Aye," Codi sighed after a moment. "For _Arthur_. Never for Rome."

"Then we'd best be off," Tristan said, rising.

"We're leaving _now_?" Codi cried. "But—Guinevere--"

"Go gather your things," Morgaine said gently. "I will send her to you."

Guinevere came, as promised. She stood in the doorway as I swung a pack over my shoulder. She looked decidedly unhappy, leaning against the door frame with arms crossed and mouth pinched.

"You're leaving," Guinevere stated.

"Aye," Codi replied softly. "Tis time for me to return. Merlin has ordered it."

Guinevere's mouth hooked downward. "I've never had a friend like you—we're kinspirits, Codi, as well as cousins."

"I know," Codi sighed. "It seems like I was here for a decade and yet only a day all at once."

"Will you come back?"

Codi didn't answer right away. "I don't know. If there is any possible way, rest assured I will come." she smiled crookedly. "You won't be rid of me that easily."

"I don't want you to go," Guinevere said tightly.

"I have to," Codi said gently, and took off the necklace of woven leather and beads she had taken to wearing. "Here—take this until we meet again. Keep it safe for me."

Guinevere took the necklace and grinned at her cousin. "You read my mind—I brought this for you." She dropped into Codi's hand a bracelet much like the necklace Codi had given her and hugged Codi tightly. "Our paths will cross again one day, cousin, but until then, I'll miss you terribly."

"I'll miss you, too," Codi murmured. "When we see each other again, I'll have plenty of stories about Arthur and his men to tell you."

"I look forward to it," Guinevere whispered, and walked away.

Codi sighed and went to meet her mother, who was standing with a very peeved looking Tristan. When Morgaine saw her daughter, she smiled and touched her arm.

"There's one more thing that needs to be done," Morgaine said, ignoring Tristan's dour expression. "Tristan will return to my cottage and take care of the animals until we return."

"Return from where?" Codi asked, taken aback. "Where are we going?"

"I will explain when we get there," Morgaine assured her. "It's not far."

"Not far" turned out to be another three days' walk north into the hills. When they finally reached their destination—a quiet, secluded lake—Morgaine sat down on a nearby rock and motioned for Codi to do the same. Codi sat in front of Morgaine and leaned against Shasa comfortably.

She raised her eyebrows questioningly. "So are you going to tell me what all this is about, or will we just admire the scenery?"

Morgaine leaned forward and looked at Codi solemnly. "Codi, you know you probably would have died if you had given birth, don't you?"

"Yes," Codi replied, not sure where this was going. She looked at her mother suspiciously. "You don't think--"

"No, no." Morgaine waved a hand dismissively. "I know you're not pregnant. But childbirth is a very, very real threat. Even if you weren't thin, it would be very dangerous for you to have a child. There are no modern medicines, no modern technology, not even a modern concept of hygiene. Conception would be nothing short of a death sentence."

"Mother, I hardly think I'm in danger of getting pregnant," Codi protested. "Ever. Do you honestly think I could ever—ever--"

"Yes," Morgaine said bluntly. "Yes, I think you can and will, at some point. And so steps must be taken to protect you."

"What kind of steps?" Codi asked curiously. "The pill won't be on the markets for—what, another fifteen centuries or so?"

"There is a ritual," Morgaine said, very seriously, "to take away your ability to bear children. The gift of childbearing was given to women by the Lady—the Mother. If need be, she can also take it away."

A few weeks—even a few days ago, Codi would have merely smiled and rolled her eyes, but wasn't Shasa living proof of the gods' existence—and power? Codi shuddered as she recalled in perfect detail the moment she knew she was pregnant. She hadn't needed Tristan to tell her—she had known, and it had scared her senseless. Morgaine was right—pregnancy would almost certainly result in death, if she were to conceive again.

"Alright," Codi said. "What do we need to do?"

"We wait," Morgaine said. "The others will come when all is prepared."

And so they waited. And waited. And waited some more until a shadowy figure approached from the darkness of the trees a bit before midnight. Morgaine shook her daughter awake and led the sleepy young woman into the forest, where the shadowy figure drew back her hood.

"This is Nimue," Morgaine said, indicating the icily blond woman. "She will oversee the ritual."

"Come," Nimue said, taking her hand. She led Codi to a clearing where a small fire shed a little light on a pot of ink and bundles of herbs. Codi could see other women, hooded and cloaked, standing in a circle around the perimeter of the clearing. "Take off your clothes and lie on those herbs, there."

Codi raised her eyebrows, but didn't argue. She lay down on the soft bed of herbs and tried to push back the apprehension that seemed to be crawling under her skin. Her mother squeezed her hand reassuringly before turning to take her place in the circle of women. Nimue began by throwing some herbs on the fire and chanting in a strange language. The circle answered as a single entity. Codi shivered.

Nimue then sprinkled the same herbs over Codi's body and waved a burning bundle of leaves over her nose. Codi sneezed and noticed herself becoming—not sleepy, exactly, but passive. She watched with a sort of detached interest as Nimue circled and chanted and sprinkled more herbs here and there. The women circled and chanted with her, calling out answers in that same, strange language. Codi closed her eyes.

With a start, Codi suddenly realized that Nimue was pricking her with a needle—another tattoo, she thought woozily. Dad would flip. That's kind of a strange place for a tattoo, though, isn't it? Oh, wait, one of the Evils has a tattoo around her belly button. Ew, I don't want to be like _her_. This train of thought was interrupted as Nimue set a bowl of funny smelling liquid to her mouth. Obediently, Codi drank.

Almost immediately, her stomach began to hurt. It was a subtle sort of pain, at first—just enough to make her uncomfortable. Codi squirmed and muttered as the churning, twisting feeling grew and cried out as a sudden burst of pain wracked her insides. Nimue raised her arms and shouted something to the heavens, then knelt to hold Codi down. The circle set up a steady chant and stamped and clapped as Nimue continued shouting. Codi cried out again, in fear as well as pain. Her breath hissed through teeth clenched tightly against the pain.

The shouting and chanting was getting louder—or was it only the wind howling in her ears? Her stomach was being ripped apart—she would be torn in half—Codi moaned and felt the salty tang of blood as she bit her lip.

"Mother!" she gasped. "Mother, help me—I'm dying—ah, gods—_Mother!"_

Codi screamed as blood gushed from between her legs. There was a thunderous shout from the women around her and, as suddenly as it had come, the wind died. The pain died with it. Nimue released her and Codi lay still, panting. Morgaine was now beside her, holding her hand and pushing back her sweat-soaked hair.

"Is it over?" Codi croaked.

"Yes," Morgaine murmured. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but it had to be done."

"If that's what childbirth is like, then I'm glad we did it," Codi said weakly. "I'll take cramps over that any day."

"Silly, you won't have cramps any more either—you have your period so you can have babies. You won't have your period anymore," Morgaine told her, laughing.

Codi's eyes snapped open. "You're kidding."

"No."

"Well—shit, why didn't you tell me that before?" Codi demanded.

"Language," her mother said primly.


	12. Chapter 12

sorry for the delay, duckies, but it's been a pretty busy weekend

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Two weeks later, Codi rode through the gates with Tristan on one side and Shasa on the other. Ignoring the apprehension that was quickly growing inside her, she lifted her chin and met the curious and fearful looks people threw her with challenging eyes. They rode straight threw the town and into the castle courtyard, where they were met by Arthur and the rest of his men. Codi studied each carefully, measuring reactions.

Bors and Lancelot seemed proud and pleased, Galahad merely confused, Arthur solemn and unreadable, and Gawain...Gawain looked like his world had been turned upside down. Codi read hurt, confusion, and grief warring for dominance in his face. Dagonet frowned as if in disapproval or concern—of what, Codi didn't really want to know.

Codi halted before them and looked Arthur in the eye. "I am to join your company. My mother has said it."

"Your mother is not the commander of my company," Arthur replied gently. "I choose who fights with me—and I cannot choose you."

"For what reason?" Codi challenged.

"You are a woman—I do not discount your courage or your ability," Arthur told her quietly, forestalling an angry protest. "But the harsh truth is that you are smaller and weaker than the men you would face. I will not risk you that way."

"I have been in battle," Codi said calmly, smiling as they twitched in surprise. "I am smaller, aye, but much faster—and more skilled than many. I had excellent teachers. And I have...certain advantages my opponents do not."

Arthur's eyes flicked to the wolf sitting alertly at her side. "I cannot risk it."

"For whose sake? My own?" Codi shook her head. "No one is forcing me. I undertake this task willingly. Certainly not for my mother's...she approves whole-heartedly. No one else may lay claim to me, nor dictate my actions."

She did not look at Gawain, though she heard his sharp, indrawn breath.

"Yet the fact remains that I, not you or your mother, am the commander of this company," Arthur said firmly. "And I say no."

"A bargain, then," Codi offered, fighting back frustration. "Pick your champion—I will meet him in a duel. If I win, you accept my service. If I lose, I will never bother you with this again."

Arthur sighed. "And if I do not accept your bargain?"

Codi smiled. "Then you will not hear the end of it until you do."

"I thought as much," Arthur said dryly, and rubbed his face. "Dagonet—show her what she is asking of me. Let us hope it will dissuade her."

Hiding a smile, Codi dismounted and handed her bow to Tristan, who gave her an amused glance. Dagonet unsheathed his sword even as she unsheathed one of the knives her mother gave her. Dagonet smirked and swung his sword idly, warming up. Codi hopped up and down a few times and stretched, making sure everything was loose.

"First blood," Arthur declared. "Go."

Codi waited, balanced on the balls of her feet, as Dagonet came toward her. It would have to be fast, Codi told herself. She could only dodge and duck so long without getting tired. As he approached, Cod started to move, circling around him and switching directions. She could see the big man blinking quickly as he got more and more dizzy. Abruptly, Codi snatched up two loose rocks and sent on whizzing right at his face and the other a bit lower. He ducked the first one, but in doing so set his face directly in the path of the second. As he shook his head and cursed (and fell over Shasa, who had wandered over to place himself directly behind Dagonet's knees), she darted in to swipe at the arm that held his sword. Skipping away, Codi grinned to see blood dotting her knife.

"Bad form!" Arthur cried furiously. "A low trick, Codi."

"What has form to do with anything?" Codi demanded. "You fight bandits and thieves, who have no honor—and Woads and Irishmen who will do whatever is necessary to survive. There is nothing honorable or fair about battle, Arthur—after eleven years, you of all people should know that."

Arthur rubbed his temples wearily and cast a dark look at Tristan, who shrugged.

"She's right, you know."

"I suppose you support this madness," Arthur stated resignedly.

"It would be madness to turn her away," Tristan said seriously.

Arthur turned to Dagonet, who shook his head with a wry grin and grimaced as he stood up. "The girl's got a point, loath as I am to admit it. And she did draw first blood."

"Give her a chance," Lancelot urged. "Codi's wasted in the tavern—you've said it yourself."

"Faster'n lightning, our lass," Bors said proudly. "And a cunning little bitch she is, too."

"Galahad?" Arthur inquired.

Galahad grinned. "Aye—think of what fun it would be, having Codi with us."

"Gawain?" Arthur asked, hesitantly this time.

"Aye," Gawain said heavily. "She deserves it."

Arthur sighed. "Alright, Codi. But if you slow us down or endanger my men in any way, you're through."

Codi nodded solemnly. "You won't be sorry, Arthur."

"I sincerely hope not," Arthur agreed with a scowl, and stalked into the castle.

Codi grinned and let her hand drop to tangle in Shasa's ruff as her friends crowded around her, greeting her enthusiastically—in Galahad, Bors, Lancelot's cases—roughly, in Dagonet's case, or not at all...in Gawain's case. Codi excused herself and followed him as he walked away. She knew he was heading for the stables.

"Gawain," she called softly. He hesitated, then stopped, but did not turn around. "Gawain, look at me."

When he did so, she could see the full measure of his pain. "Your mother was right."

Codi blinked. "What?"

"Before she took you away, she told me that you wouldn't be the same person when you came back." He swallowed. "She said I was not the man for you."

"No," Codi agreed after a moment. "I'm not the Codi you knew—and you're not the man for me. I'm sorry, Gawain."

"Tisn't your fault," Gawain muttered. "If anything, it was me—if I'd been there to protect you--"

"I don't need to be protected," Codi told him gently. "You were in love with a little girl afraid to stand up for herself, afraid to take charge of her own life—I'm not that girl anymore. You are a good, kind, honest man, Gawain, and one day you'll make some woman very happy—but that woman isn't me."

Gawain nodded mutely and turned away.

"Gawain," she called once more. "I can't pretend I'm not relieved to be rid of a betrothal, but I would hate to lose you as well. I may not need a man to protect me, but I do need a friend."

Gawain turned back and drew her to him in a tight hug. "I'll always be your friend, Codi—and even if you don't need me to protect you, I'll do my damnedest anyway."

"Likewise," Codi said with a relieved smile and hugged him back.

"You should go to Vonora," Gawain told her softly. "She's missed you."

"I will," Codi said, ashamed that she had forgotten.

Vonora was in the house, feeding the baby. Codi entered the house silently, but was soon spotted by Number Four, who shrieked in startled fear and ran to her mother. Vonora's head snapped up. Fear flickered across her face, but it was quickly replaced by recognition and joy.

"Codi!" she gasped, setting down Number—with a shock, Codi realized that it must be Number Eight, at least. "I heard people talking—but I thought...Oh, Codi, is it really you?"

"It's really me," Codi laughed, and hugged her friend.

Vonora stepped back and looked her over. "Why on earth are you wearing men's things? And these marks on your face...they—they're like Tristan's."

Codi nodded and smiled as Shasa trotted in. Vonora gasped and snatched up her baby, moving to place herself between Shasa and Number Four. Her eyes flicked from the wolf to Codi and back to the wolf.

"He's yours?" Vonora put a hand out to restrain Number Four, who was peeking around her mother curiously.

"Aye," Codi said softly. "He won't harm you. Four, would you like to pat his head? Wolves need friends, too."

Number Four nodded and moved forward. Codi could see Vonora struggling not to hold her back. The little red-head—she must be eight now, Codi thought, reached out a hand to pat Shasa's head. She shrieked and jumped backwards when Shasa licked her hand and then laughed. She patted him again and smiled when Shasa wagged his tail and licked her hand. Codi smiled at him in approval and laughed as she realized that her spirit mate really liked children; he wasn't just being polite.

Vonora let out a breath. "You've changed."

"I have," Codi agreed, and looked up. "I've joined Arthur's company."

"Have you, now?" Vonora asked sceptically. "And what has Arthur to say about this?"

"He agreed," Codi said, and grinned. "In the end."

"What have you done now?" Vonora asked, half amused and half worried.

Codi told her the whole of it and Vonora laughed.

"I wish I could have seen their faces," she said, shaking her head, then looked at Codi sharply. "Have you spoken to Gawain?"

"Aye," Codi nodded. "He knows that it can never work for us."

"Good," Vonora said crisply, and smiled. "I'm glad you're home, if only to patch things up with him. Gods, Codi, you've been gone more than a year!"

"I know," Codi said, and looked around. "Where is everyone?"

"Playing or working—Gilly's working in the stables now, and training to be a knight like his father," Vonora said proudly. "I've kept all your things—Gilly's been sleeping in your bed, though."

Codi waved a hand dismissively. "He's welcome to it," she said. "I have quarters in the castle now. And you should keep my dresses—I certainly don't need them and Two and Four will grow into them soon enough."

"Fine, but I'll not take your good dress," Vonora declared.

"Why not?" Codi protested. "I'm a warrior now—not a lady."

"You were never a lady," Vonora snorted. "And, warrior or not, you're still a woman. You may have need of it some day."

Codi argued a bit more, but gave in when Vonora threatened to throw the dress in question in the fire. Codi sighed in exasperation and accepted the dress, muttering to herself as she stalked out of the house with Four on her heels. The little girl was delighted with Shasa and he with her.

"Codi, why did you go?" Four asked, wrinkling her freckled nose. "Mama wouldn't say."

"Some men hurt me," Codi said carefully. "I had to go with my mother to get better."

"But Mama said you had no mama or papa and that's why you lived with us," Four stated.

"I do have a mama, I just didn't know it when I came to live with you," Codi said, and tweaked her nose.

"That's confusing," Four said mournfully. "I wouldn't like to not have a mama and then have a mama all of a sudden."

"It was confusing," Codi agreed as they strode toward the castle.

"Why are you a warrior now?" Four asked.

Codi opened her mouth, then closed it. "Because I have to."

"Like Papa has to?"

"No, not like that—because it's my destiny, I suppose," Codi said, shrugging.

"Can I be a warrior too?"

"You can be whatever you want," Codi told her seriously. "If you want it badly enough."

"Then I'll be a warrior when I grow up," Four declared, staring fixedly at Shasa.

Codi looked at them and cocked her head thoughtfully. Who knew? Maybe Four had the magic in her, too.

"It would be a lot of work," Codi warned her. "And you would have to convince your Papa that you're able."

"Will you teach me?" Four asked, tugging on her hand. "Please, please, please--"

"Alright, alright," Codi laughed. "I'll teach you some—but no weaponcraft, yet, or else your papa will have my head."

"Well, then what will you teach me?" Four pouted.

"How to run, first," Codi grinned. "You need to be fast, because men are stronger than we are."

"Then I'll be fast," Four said firmly.

"You'll be skinny, like me," Codi told her. "Men will say you look like a boy and make fun of you."

"I don't care," Four declared. "I don't like boys, any way. They're mean."

"Alright," Codi said. "Come on, I'll show you some exercises. When I have time, I'll make you some proper shoes and we'll start running."

Codi showed her some simple plyometric exercises and shook her head ruefully as Four scampered off to practice lunges, grapevines, and power-skipping. What have I gotten myself into? she thought.

"Corrupting the innocent, are we?" a voice inquired idly. Tristan detached himself from the shadows of the courtyard and leaned against the wall, where she could see him.

"Just giving her the opportunity to do something with her body," Codi said defensively.

"You just don't want to be the only skinny woman in the village," Tristan teased.

Codi rolled her eyes. "Oh, curses. You've caught me."

"What's that?" Tristan asked, reaching for the crumpled dress in Codi's hand.

Codi snatched it away almost guiltily, blushing. "Nothing."

"What is it?" Tristan pressed, intrigued.

"Not telling," Codi grinned, ducking around him and disappearing into the castle.

Tristan stared after her in consternation. Then he sighed, thinking of what it would mean, having a female in the company. For all he supported Codi wholeheartedly, he couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten himself into.


	13. Chapter 13

patience, my ducks, patience...I'm trying to get Codi and Tristan together, I really am, but I'm kind of stuck...I mean, they can't just randomly hop in bed and get it on

Wanderer of the Roads...I'm not sure what you mean by the 'connection thing'. The connection she has with Shasa? Because she's not connected with Tristan, if that's what you're thinking. Explain a little more and maybe I can address it.

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Codi dropped into a tub of hot water with a huge sigh of relief. They had just returned from a routine inspection of the wall and the surrounding areas. It was an easy enough task, normally, but it had been raining almost nonstop for the past two days. Codi tipped her head back and wriggled happily as warmth seeped into her stiff, frozen limbs. For all it was April, it was still chilly most of the time.

"I think this is something very like heaven," she confided to Shasa, who lay on the bed. He gave a throaty grumble in reply.

"Be that way, then. I'm going to sleep," Codi yawned.

If she scrunched up just so, she might be able to get all of her limbs into the cask of water. After a few minutes of shifting and squirming, she gave up and let her legs dangle over the side. Sighing, she closed her eyes and reflected on the past three weeks. The knights were finally starting to accept her with a grudging sort of respect. Codi realized that it was difficult for them to come to grips with the new Codi and her changed role in their lives.

Most things had not changed, however. Galahad and Gawain were still more than ready to make mischief, although Gawain was still protective of her. Bors still made dirty jokes—even more so than before, it seemed, but Codi realized that he had always made that many; she had only heard a portion of them before she joined the company. Arthur was still solemn and Dagonet still gruff. Lancelot still flirted with her shamelessly and was not in the least bit fazed by her new, sometimes less than polite reactions. And it was still Tristan who gave her advice when she needed it and the deep, quiet friendship that Codi cherished so much. He had adjusted more quickly than any of them because he had supported her from the beginning.

Codi fell fast asleep with as smile on her face and was extremely displeased when she was awoken by the sound of her door slamming open.

"Wake up, sunshine," Lancelot bellowed, striding into the room.

"Gyah!" Codi hurriedly tried to pull her legs into the cask, succeeding only in giving herself a splinter. "Lancelot—what are you _doing_? Get out!"

Lancelot surprised her by blushing deeply and backing out of the room. "Oh—oh—I didn't realize—I thought you were asleep," he stammered. "You didn't answer--"

"I _was_ asleep," she snapped. "Hand me that blanket there and say what you came to say."

"But—you told me to get out--"

"I've changed my mind," Codi said waspishly, still cranky at being woken up. "Give me the blanket."

Lancelot stared at the ground fetched the blanket and bent to greet Shasa, who had hopped down from the bed to receive the attention he felt was his due. Then, several things happened at once. Lancelot straightened to hand Codi her blanket just as Galahad skidded into the room, stepping on Shasa's paw by accident. Galahad, in an instinctive bid to correct his mistake, twisted awkwardly and tripped over Shasa, crashing into Lancelot and sending them both careening into the tub. Codi shrieked as the tub upended, spilling its contents—including her in all her naked glory—onto the cold stone floor.

Codi scrambled to behind the overturned cask and glared at the two men who were in the process of disentangling themselves. Gawain chose that moment to show up. Codi groaned and banged her head against the cask as he hauled Lancelot and Galahad to their feet and began questioning them in loud, angry tones.

"What's this, lads?" Bors demanded from the doorway. "What's going on?"

"That is exactly what I would like to know," Gawain said, glaring at his two soaked friends.

"I walked in on Codi while she was in the bath tub," Lancelot began.

"You _what_?" Gawain yelled.

"By accident," Lancelot shouted, beet red.

"Right," Gawain scoffed. "_You _walked in on a girl bathing by accident."

"Yes, by accident, you ass--"

"Excuse me!" Codi shouted, shivering. "Can someone please give me a blanket? I'm freezing—and completely naked, I might add, so _if_ you don't mind--"

"Oh. Right," Lancelot muttered, and handed her the now wet blanket.

Codi wrinkled her nose, but took it and wrapped it around her body. "Now, get out. All of you."

The men obediently filed out and Tristan poked his head in. "Do I want to know?" he asked dryly.

"Not really, no," Codi said grumpily.

"Well, I just came to let you know that we leave at dawn," Tristan told her. "So you might want to get your things ready."

"But we just got here," Codi cried, dismayed. "And it's still raining."

"Aye, well, apparently there was a courier waiting for Arthur when we arrived," Tristan shrugged. "We're to escort a Roman girl and her ladies to her betrothed—Gaius Tullius. He owns quite a bit of land in the south."

Codi made a face. "Won't that be exciting."

"No one promised you excitement," Tristan admonished, waggling a finger at her.

Codi rolled her eyes and turned away to wring out her damp hair.

"What's this?" Codi was surprised to feel a finger tracing the tattoo on her back.

"I got that when I brought down a stag by myself," she told him proudly. "You like it?"

"Aye, I do," Tristan said. "It's a beauty."

"Do you have any tattoos?" Codi asked curiously. "Beside your Marks, I mean."

"Aye," Tristan said solemnly. "But I'm not showing them to you. Twould be indecent, it would. A lass shouldn't see a man with his shirt off."

Codi snorted. "And here I am in naught but a blanket. Your poor, virgin eyes! Will you at least tell me what they are?"

"No," Tristan said with a broad grin.

Codi glared at him with one hand on her hip. "Why are you in such a good mood?"

"I think it has something to do with Lancelot and Galahad being completely soaked and getting screamed at and you wearing naught but a wet blanket," Tristan said, smirking, and ducked the boot that was hurled at his head. "See you in the morning."

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The next morning, Codi pulled herself into the saddle feeling very much cheated. She had been looking forward to a day of rest, but no—they had to go babysit some silly chit. Codi sighed. At least it wasn't raining anymore. Codi turned to Arthur, who was leading his horse out of the stables.

"How long do you think this will take?" she asked. "We're just dropping her off and leaving, right?"

"Actually, we've been invited to attend the wedding," Arthur said suspiciously cheerfully.

"After May Day, of course," Lancelot said with a grin. "We should arrive just in time."

Codi groaned. Beltane was a time for lovers—young people spent the entire night out "a-Maying"--screwing like rabbits, Codi thought bitterly--and then danced around the May Pole the next morning. It was the one night in the year when married couples could remove their wedding bands and the restrictions they symbolized. Needless to say, Codi wasn't overly fond of the holiday. In fact, she had spent last Beltane night curled up in front of the hearth while everyone else was out celebrating and leaping over fires.

"Are you at least going to come to the May Pole dance?" Galahad wondered. "You need to have more fun."

Codi merely grunted. "Somehow I doubt I would fit in."

"If you put on a dress and braided flowers in your hair, you might," Galahad suggested, and laughed at the look on Codi's tattooed face. "Perhaps not."

"You'd better take yourself elsewhere for the night," Lancelot warned her, shooting a bright glance at Arthur. "If those Romans find out you don't approve of the holiday, they might try to make a Christian out of you."

"Can we just leave?" she said grumpily.

"As soon as the others are ready," Arthur said equably.

"Well, tell them to hurry up," Codi grumbled.

"Out of sorts, are we?" Tristan remarked as he emerged from the stables with Dagonet, Bors, and Gawain. "I wonder why."

"I can't imagine," Codi muttered darkly. "Are you lot quite finished? I could have slept another fifteen minutes."

"Were you always this grumpy in the morning, or is this a new development?" Gawain wondered.

Bors snorted. "No, lads—she's always been a hag in the morning. She lived in _my_ house, remember."

"Can we _please_ just leave?" Codi snapped, and urged Dancer forward without waiting for an answer.

"And you wanted to marry her," Galahad sighed, shaking his head at Gawain, who grimaced and stared stoically ahead.

"Clearly, he didn't know what he was getting into," Lancelot remarked. "Imagine waking up to that every morning."

"Well, then we must be thankful for a narrow escape," Galahad said heartily. "Elsewise our dear friend would likely have been unmanned long ago."

Codi felt her face flame and her insides twist up. A narrow escape, indeed! It's a damn good thing I got gang-raped, she thought bitterly, otherwise Gawain would have been forced to marry me—phew! That was a close call. She was about to turn and say as much to the still bantering knights, but opted instead to canter ahead past Arthur, who was in deep discussion with Bors and Dagonet.

Tristan cleared his throat.

"That's enough," he said simply, but there was something in his voice that made Lancelot stop mid-sentence.

"What's the matter with her?" Galahad asked uneasily, gazing after Codi.

"Do you recall," Tristan inquired, exceedingly calmly, "why Codi didn't marry Gawain?"

Galahad and Lancelot paled. "Oh," the both said.

"Oh," Tristan agreed disgustedly, and moved ahead to catch up with Codi.

"I shouldn't let it bother me," Codi said tightly, mouth pinched. "I should be prepared—people might use it against me. To hurt me."

"Some will," Tristan agreed. "And you should be prepared for your enemies to try to hurt you—your enemies, Codi. Not your friends."

Codi blew out a gusty breath and closed her eyes. "They're so stupid sometimes."

"Aye," Tristan agreed. "But don't be too angry with them. They didn't even realize what they were saying."

"Because they're stupid."

"Aye, because they're stupid." Tristan slanted her a sly look. "But they aren't wrong."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"You _are _a right bitch in the morning."


	14. Chapter 14

I keep telling you guys, I update quickly because I have it already written. I started this story months ago. We're coming to the end of what I have so far, so we might get another few chapters before the updates slow down. Just to warn you.

and I think I have an idea of how to get Tristan and Codi together, but you're going to have to be patient.

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Misericordia Julia Tertia was a royal pain in the ass. Or rather, Codi thought darkly, an imperial one. They had been traveling for two days now and Lady Misery, as Codi had dubbed her, had only stopped complaining long enough to eat obscene amounts of food three times a day and complain that it tasted old and stale. Luckily, she had her own supplies (that required an extra wagon to carry); _un_luckily, she would likely finish it before they arrived at their destination.

Arthur, in an attempt to spare as many as possible, let the other knights scout ahead periodically, not just Tristan and Codi, who usually went. Codi rode gloomily between Lancelot and Tristan, trying to block out Lady Misery's loudly complaining voice. She couldn't tell what was being said, exactly (her Latin wasn't quite as good as it might be), but she got the basic idea. The wagon was much to bouncy, there weren't enough pillows, she felt sick, it was too cold...the list went on. Thankfully, Shasa had enough sense to remain unseen, lest he upset the lady and her attendants. He probably was saving her a headache by keeping his distance, but Codi missed him.

"I feel bad for Arthur," Codi remarked. "He actually has to answer her. The rest of us can simply claim not to understand."

"What do you mean, 'claim' not to understand? I've served the Romans for more than ten years and I still can't catch anything they say," Lancelot groused. "It's all gibberish."

"Well, be glad for it now," Tristan advised. "It's much easier to block someone out when you can't understand what's being said."

"Speak for yourself," Lancelot retorted. "It's like...like...I don't know. There's nothing to compare it to. I don't think I've ever wanted to kill someone so badly. Certainly not a lady."

"That's it!" Codi exclaimed, snapping her fingers.

"What's it?" Lancelot asked suspiciously.

"Go work your magic," Codi suggested mischievously. "I've never heard a woman complain with you to...entertain her."

Lancelot looked slightly ill. "Thank you, no."

"But Lancelot, you could save us all," Codi cried dramatically, and gripped his shoulder. "Do the right thing, Lancelot. You're our only hope."

Lancelot shook her off. "Not bloody likely."

"So selfish," Tristan said mournfully, shaking his head.

"Why don't you have a go at it?" Lancelot snapped. "You could use the practice."

"I," Tristan declared, "have no need of charm or flattery to win a woman."

"Ah," Lancelot said wisely. "Animal magnetism."

"I prefer to think it's my rugged good looks," Tristan said seriously, and winked at Codi as Lancelot snorted.

"Is that what you call looking like something the cat dragged in?" Lancelot shook a lock of curly hair out of his eyes.

Tristan opened his mouth to replay, but Codi interrupted him. "Lancelot, do you know that you take more time to do your hair than I do?"

"Codi, I love you dearly, but that's really not saying much," Lancelot said dryly. "I think Bors spends more time on his hair than you do."

"Har, har," Codi said, rolling her eyes, but it kind of stung. "Still, that makes you the most feminine member of this company."

"You are both simply jealous," Lancelot told them airily.

"Oh, yes," Codi agreed. "I am simply green with envy."

Lancelot and Tristan stared at her.

"Green?" Lancelot asked dubiously.

"Er—never mind," Codi muttered.

"Gawain's back," Tristan suddenly announced, nodding ahead.

"About time," Lancelot said sourly.

"But who's that he's got with him?" Codi wondered, squinting.

"Looks like a woman," Tristan said grimly. Codi glanced at him sharply but his dark eyes were unreadable.

Gawain trotted up with a young woman—a girl, really—riding behind him. He dismounted and carefully lifted her down after him. Her hair was dirty and unkempt, but it looked like it might have been blond at one time. Her face was thin and pale with a smattering of freckles across her nose. Her dress was ragged and dirty and she looked utterly terrified.

"What's this?" Arthur asked briskly, clearly relieved at an excuse to ignore Misericordia.

"I found her coming out of the woods," Gawain said. "She says she needs help."

"What is your name?" Arthur asked kindly.

"Brenna," she squeaked, eyes wide. "Please—we were set upon by thieves—I escaped but my mother and sister are—please, will you help me? They're in the forest...if they haven't moved, I can lead you to them."

"She's lying," Codi said suddenly, surprising everyone—including herself.

"What?" Arthur looked at her closely. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Codi said firmly.

Arthur turned back to Brenna. "Well, miss?"

"How—but I practiced," Brenna cried desperately as tears began to stream down her face. "He made me say it over and over and over again--"

"Who did?" Arthur asked calmly.

"My husband," Brenna whispered.

"Why did your husband want you to lie?"

"He's a—thief," Brenna spat. "And a liar and a murderer and—and a rapist. He makes me help him sometimes—if I don't do it right, he beats me. If I don't come back with you, he'll beat me."

"Well, then, you just won't go back," Arthur said gently.

"Not—go back?" Brenna's tears stopped and she stared up at him through a curtain of lank hair. Codi's eyes narrowed. Something didn't feel right."You mean—you'll take me with you?"

"If you wish it." Arthur nodded.

Brenna stared a moment more and then a smile lit her thin face. "Aye—aye! Oh, my lord, thank you!" she seized Arthur's hand and kissed it. Tears began to flow again as she beamed up at him. "May the Lady shine on you, my lord."

"Er—thank you," Arthur said, clearly uncomfortable with the pagan blessing. "Perhaps you should ride with Codi."

"No, no, no," Codi said, backing up. Something about Brenna bothered her. She hadn't lied—not outright, anyway. But she was hiding something. "It's my turn to scout. She can ride with Gawain. He'll be here a while."

Without waiting for an answer, Codi urged Moondancer into a gallop and kept going until Shasa appeared in the tree line. Smiling, she waited for him to catch up.

"Is she really a knight?"

Gawain hesitated before answering. "Well, yes and no. She's a warrior, yes, and a member of the company, but she wasn't forced into it like the rest of us. She asked to. Well, actually, she told Arthur that she was joining the company and won the right through trial by combat. There was no asking involved, really."

"She must be very strong," Brenna said softly.

"She's the strongest woman I've ever known," Gawain agreed heavily.

"I'll wager she never let men push her around or beat her," Brenna said bitterly.

"But they did," Gawain corrected her. "Codi used to be meeker than a day old kitten until she was attacked by bandits. They—well, you know—they...violated her. She almost died. Then Tristan took her away to live with her mother and she came back a year later with tattoos and a wolf and she told Arthur that she was joining the company."

"Oh." Brenna scowled. "I wish I could be like that."

"Codi changed because she had to," Gawain sighed. "And it brings her no joy, I think. Pray that you'll never be forced to change like that."

"You speak as if you know her very well," Brenna remarked.

"I knew the old Codi better than any—save one, perhaps," Gawain said a trifle bitterly. "We were to be married...and then, well, it--happened. She couldn't bear my presence, she wouldn't even speak to me—and then she left for more than a year. She's been back for weeks and I feel like I don't know the new Codi at all." Gawain shook himself. "Why am I telling you all this? I've only just met you."

"Perhaps you simply needed to tell someone," Brenna suggested. "How did Codi know I was lying?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," Gawain said honestly. "It seems to be a new development, at any rate, or I wouldn't be here now."

"Why is that?" Brenna asked, puzzled.

"I told her last week that it was Lancelot who stole her stash of honey-cakes."

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Codi slowed as she approached the wood. Something was not right. The wind shifted, coming from the trees, and Shasa immediately began to growl deep in his throat. Someone—several someones, in fact—was waiting for them. Brenna's husband, Codi thought. Silly man, to think he can take on a company of Sarmatian knights with only ten men. Codi frowned. How did she know there were ten? Shasa advised her not to worry about it, so Codi shrugged and kept walking forward as if she had not noticed anything strange.

"Fetch Tristan and a few others," she told Shasa. "As many as you think necessary."

Shasa loped off to complete his task, leaving Codi to face the rogues alone. As she entered the wood, she kept a sharp eye out. This time, she saw the rope strung across the track. With a smirk, she kicked Moondancer into an abrupt gallop, ducking under the rope and wheeling around to face the rogues who had emerged from hiding. All held knives save one, who held a crossbow in his hands. For a moment, she saw different faces—different rogues—staring at her and heard a slimy, sneering voice in her head.

Mentally shaking herself, Codi smiled at the band of thieves. "Why, hello. Lovely day for a ride, is it not?"

"A fine day for a ride," the leader agreed. "And finer still for sport."

"Sport? Whatever can you mean?" Codi asked innocently, watching the crossbow out of the corner of her eye. The man who held it barely knew which end to point.

"Whatever sport a little lassie like ye can provide," he replied with a nasty and all too familiar grin. "Tis been a long week, ye ken."

"I see," Codi said slowly, and smiled impishly. Not this time, ass wipe. "Well, I'll see what I can do for such a fine bunch of boyos."

As quick as thought, Codi whipped her bow off her shoulder and planted an arrow in the bowman's neck. The rest stared in shock and then came to their senses after two more of their comrades found arrows sprouting out of their chests. They swarmed around Moondancer only to discover that the filly did not appreciate their attentions.

Still, seven to one were not very good odds and the element of surprise had been lost. They darted in one or two at a time, trying to cut through the girth and unsaddle her. Where the hell was Tristan? Codi thought peevishly. He should have been here by now.

Codi glanced up and made a decision. Taking a deep breath, she shook her feet free of the stirrups and crouched on top of the saddle. With an ugly laugh, the leader of the rogues lunged forward to knock her down but found that his target had disappeared. Dancer reared and bolted, knocking over a man too slow to get out of her way.

By this time, Codi was several branches higher and contemplating her next move. Clearly, Tristan had been delayed by something. She could just stay put, but the branch she was sitting on wasn't particularly comfortable and the rogues might decide to find another place from which to ambush them later on. With a grimace, Codi crawled back down through the branches and peered through the leaves at the rogues, who were muttering to themselves of demons and faeries.

Codi smirked. I'm not through with you yet, my ducks. Without a sound, Codi swung down from her perch, catching the leader in the head with both feet. A sinister crack heralded his broken neck. Codi crouched low, knives at the ready, and stared around at the remaining six.

"Witch!" one hissed. "Demon!"

"Oh, come now," she said with a wolfish grin. "No need to be bitter."

"Tis unnatural," he spat. "A woman--"

"Has every right to defend her self," Codi snapped, eyes blazing. "You would have raped me, robbed me, and killed me if I let you. You are filth. And you shall die as filth."

The man cried out in pain and fear as a snarling wolf tackled him from behind. The others turned to flee and fell with arrows in their backs. Codi glared up at Tristan and Lancelot and Galahad.

"What took you so long?" she demanded, taking Dancer's reigns from Galahad.

"There were others waiting for us," Tristan explained. "They must have circled behind you."

"Oh."

"Good work, though," Lancelot commended her, looking at the four men she had killed. He nudged the leader. "How did this one die? He hasn't a mark on him."

"Broken neck," Tristan grunted after a brief glance. "Come on, then, play time is over. Back to the wagons."

Codi groaned. "Do we have to?"

"Codi, shame on you," Galahad chided. "Arthur needs our help."

"She's _his_ countrywoman, not ours," Codi muttered.

"We could just stay here a bit longer," Lancelot suggested, glancing around shiftily. "You know, clean up a bit..."

"The bodies would surely frighten the lady," Tristan agreed seriously. "So messy."

"And we are solely devoted to the lady's comfort," Codi added virtuously.

"We're doing Arthur a favor, really," Galahad concluded. "Right, then—to work. Mind you do a thorough job."

"It is a rather large job, isn't it?" Lancelot observed. "Why, we could be here for hours..."

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That night, Codi tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She had grown used to having Shasa with her at night. He was warm and furry and had a tendency to discourage nightmares. It was beginning to look as if she would have to do without sleep that night. With a heavy sigh, she sat up and saw Tristan sitting near the fire, turning something over in his hands.

"Don't you ever sleep?" she asked, sitting down next to him.

"Only when the moon is full," Tristan told her. "I've still got another few days to go."

Codi sighed. He had the oddest sense of humor. "What's that?"

"A ring," he answered, holding it out to her. It was a smooth silver band engraved with strange runes. The craftsmanship was exquisite.

"It's beautiful," Codi breathed. She looked up at him inquisitively. "Although it doesn't really seem to your taste."

"It was my mother's," Tristan explained softly. "My father gave it to her when they were promised to each other. She gave it to me when I left, saying that I'd better have it in case I found a lass before I returned home."

"Have you?" Codi asked curiously, realizing that she knew very little about Tristan's personal life.

"I just keep it as a good luck charm, really," Tristan shrugged. "It helps me think, sometimes." He looked down at her and smiled. "Is that why you can't sleep? Thinking too much?"

"No," Codi said, shaking her head. "My bright-eyed boyo isn't here."

"Ah," Tristan murmured. "Like a babe without her poppet." A gentle, teasing tug on her braid took the sting out of his words. "Would you like me to sing you a lullaby, my bairn?"

"I remember...when I was—sick, you sang to me, didn't you?" she asked, eyes dark and troubled at the memories. "I remember your voice..."

Tristan smiled and began to sing softly. The melody was simple and soothing and, when it was done, Codi was sleepy and oddly peaceful.

"That was nice...where did you learn it?" she murmured drowsily.

"My mother used to sing it to me and my brother," Tristan told her. Even though he was no longer singing, his voice was soothing.

"You have a brother?" Codi asked, surprised. "I didn't know that."

"And a sister," Tristan confirmed. "They were both much younger than me. Danya was only two when I left."

"Tell me more about your family," Codi said sleepily, and leaned against his shoulder.

"My mother was much younger than my father, but theirs wasn't an arranged marriage," Tristan recalled after a moment. "She was the most beautiful woman in the clan and when the tribes met every year, all the young men vied for her favor. But she only had eyes for my father and they married. They weren't just—passionate—about each other. They were truly in love—bound to each other. As soon as I was old enough to understand what there could be between a man and a woman, I knew I wanted to have what they had. And they loved me and my siblings as much as they loved each other. My father always told me that the most noble destiny a man can have is to love his wife and children and keep them happy and healthy. He was a very simple man, my father."

"Then why are you so complicated?" Codi wondered, eyes half closed.

"I suppose I've led a rather more complicated life than my father," Tristan sighed. "But I still want the same things...I just have to wait before I can have them."

"You still want a soul mate and lots of children?" Codi snorted. "Somehow I can't see you in that light."

But that wasn't completely true. The day-time Tristan was all warrior—dangerous, determined, and utterly ruthless in battle. But this Tristan, bathed in the soft light of the moon seemed...not soft, but gentler. More human, for all he retained the feral, wild grace that made him Tristan. Codi shook her head. It was too confusing to puzzle over.

"A 'soul-mate', aye, if that's what you want to call it," Tristan agreed, unfazed. "I can do without lots of children, though."

"I'm never going to have children," Codi mumbled, rubbing her nose against the leather of his jerkin. "And I'll never...well, you know...do that. Ever again."

"Ah, my lass, someday some lucky man will show you that it doesn't have to be a nightmare," Tristan said, shaking his head ruefully.

"You can keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better," Codi shrugged, and yawned.

"If I were a dishonorable man, I would make a wager on that," Tristan remarked.

"What makes you so sure I'll have a man again?" Codi asked, genuinely curious. "Not many men would even have me."

"Not many Britons, perhaps," Tristan admitted. "But you're Woad. I can't believe there weren't men in your village who weren't interested."

"Alright, fine. But still, what makes you think I won't just keep myself to myself for the rest of my mortal existence? Because that's what the plan is, as of now." Codi straightened so she could look at his face.

Tristan looked down at her. "You're too much a woman to hide all your life," he said seriously.

Codi stared at him. "Too _much_--"

"Aye," Tristan said, and took something away from the fire. He handed it to her. It was a warm cup of tea. "Go back to bed, Codi. We've a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Codi did as he suggested, drinking the tea before she went. It had the desired effect. By the time she made it to her bed roll she was yawning and struggling to keep her eyes open. Codi sighed. Tristan must be silly from lack of sleep. Too much a woman, indeed.


	15. Chapter 15

sorry, I lied...this is the last chapter that I have already written. So expect a good long wait for the next update. :tear: o( I'll try to get it up as soon as possible. Oh! And there is a possibility of things heating up between Tristan and Codi in the next few chapters.

savor it, my ducks, for you'll have a long wait after this

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Codi awoke the next morning to the dubious pleasure of Lady Misery's dulcet tones. Groaning, she tried to snuggle into her blankets and let out an inarticulate cry of indignation as she found them snatched away. Codi sat up and glared blearily at Tristan, who was neatly folding her blanket for her.

"Mmph," she grunted at him, rubbing her face.

"I let you sleep in because you didn't sleep much last night," he said sternly in response to her wordless accusation. "You should be thanking me. Get up, we're almost ready to leave."

"Bastard," Codi muttered.

"I heard that."

"Good," Codi grumbled.

That day Codi found herself riding beside Brenna, who was perched precariously atop one of Lady Misery's pack horses (she had finished the last of the horse's supplies that morning). Codi fidgeted under Brenna's oddly direct gaze. The girl made no attempt to hide the fact that she was staring at Codi.

"Can I help you with something?" Codi asked edgily.

"You don't trust me," Brenna stated.

Codi opened her mouth and then shut it. "No."

"What would you have me tell you?" the girl asked.

"What were you hiding yesterday?" Codi asked without preamble. "When Arthur said you could come with us."

"Everything I said was true," Brenna said. "I just—wasn't as surprised as I perhaps seemed. I have heard of Arthur Castus. It occurred to me that he might take me in. In fact, I was counting on it."

"What would you have done if he hadn't?" Codi asked curiously, mind set at ease. Her internal Lie-Detector, or whatever it was, was silent.

Brenna shrugged and smiled crookedly. "I suppose it's a good thing he did, isn't it?" Brenna studied her closely. "How old are you?"

"Twenty one," Codi replied, startled. "You?"

"Seventeen," Brenna told her, and looked at her intently. "You don't look any older than me—except for your eyes. Your eyes look older than the stones."

"Er..." Codi wasn't sure what to say to this. "What do you suppose you'll do when we get to Gaius Tullius' lands?"

"Find work," Brenna shrugged. "His lands are near the fort at Caerleon, aren't they?" Codi nodded. "Perhaps I'll go there. Where there are men, there's coin to be had."

Codi stared at her in shock. "Do you mean—you would--"

"Work as a prostitute?" Brenna laughed humorlessly. "Aye—what did you think I've been doing? They'd have killed me, else. At least now I'll be paid."

"But—you said you're husband--"

"Oh, he was my husband, aye, and could do with me what he would," Brenna said bitterly. "So says the Bible. He didn't even believe in it, really—he just needed something to justify it to himself."

Codi couldn't speak for a moment. When she found her voice, she said, "Forget I asked. You'll come back to the Wall with us and we'll find you decent work. My friend Vonora—she'll set you straight. She helped me get on my feet when I first came here. She'll help you, too."

Brenna slanted a glance at Codi. "You're not disgusted by me?"

"No," Codi said, taken aback. "Why would I be?"

"Because I let those men use me and humiliate me over and over again without fighting—like you did." Brenna looked away. "Because I'm willing to go on letting men use my body, but for coin."

Codi hesitated. "Yes and no. I'm repulsed by the idea, certainly. But I understand where you're coming from. We all do whatever is necessary to survive. In a way, I think you're stronger than I am."

Brenna stared at her. "How? You—you're a warrior...no man will ever touch you again without your consent."

"But you endured," Codi said slowly, turning over the thought in her head. "After...you know, it happened...I couldn't even speak to a man, let alone sleep with one for coin. If my life depended on it, I don't think I could do what you would do, even now. You're right—a man will never touch me again without my consent. And I don't think I'll ever be able to give my consent. To anyone. So, no—I'm not disgusted by you."

"I never thought about it like that," Brenna murmured. "I just...I didn't want to die. I felt like I was a coward because I would rather—defile myself than let them kill me."

"Survival is any living thing's first priority." Codi shrugged uncomfortably. "Enough of this. You won't have to anymore, so the point is moot. Come on, let's catch up to Gawain and Galahad—they said they had a new joke to share."

Once Brenna was suitably engaged by Galahad and Gawain, Codi dropped back to ride with Tristan, who shot her an amused glance.

"A shock, was it?" he asked sympathetically.

"A bit," she admitted. "I mean, I know many women are prostitutes, but...I don't know, I didn't think she'd be so frank about it."

"Ah, well, she was probably putting on a brave front," Tristan shrugged. "I don't doubt she would have done it if she had to, but I hardly think she was as uncaring as it seemed."

"I suppose," Codi murmured, and shuddered. Suddenly something occurred to her. "You know, it's not usually considered polite to eavesdrop."

"Well, then, I suppose it's a good thing I'm an ignorant savage," Tristan said seriously. "Those Sarmations...so uncivilized."

"And dirty," Codi agreed.

"And smelly," Tristan continued. "Almost as bad as Woads."

"Quite," Codi nodded, and then couldn't keep a straight face anymore. Chortling merrily, she shoved him. "You, sir, are a loon."

"Me?" Tristan asked, innocent as the summer sky. "I was being serious. Sarmatians are second only to Woads when it comes to being smelly and dirty and generally uncivilized."

"Of course, of course," Codi said, still chuckling, and spotted Lancelot returning from scouting duty. "My turn!"

Lancelot took Codi's place and stared after her thoughtfully. "I think that's the first time I've seen her laugh in days. You know, Tristan, I've only ever seen her look happy when she's with you."

Tristan shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Tis a fair difficult job, aye, but someone has to do it."


	16. Chapter 16

here you go, duckies, sorry for the wait

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When they finally arrived at Gaius Tullius' lands, both Lady Misery and the company were beside themselves with joy. The last leg of the journey had been torturous—the Roman girl moaned endlessly about her 'abominable treatment' (the knights had refused to share their rations with her), the general 'disrespect' (Arthur finally told her to shut up) and expressed a heartfelt desire to die. Codi thought that this was wonderful news since every single one of the knights fostered a heartfelt desire to kill her. But, alas, Arthur would not permit it. Although Codi could have sworn that he was battling with himself when he made the decree.

They rode into the village to find its inhabitants busily decorating their homes with flowers and vines and setting up the May Pole for the next morning. Codi wrinkled her nose. She wasn't looking forward to spending the night sitting alone in front of the fire while everyone else was having a good time.

Suddenly Codi had a thought. Who said she had to stay inside? She could spend the night in the woods with Shasa. And it was a warm night...perhaps she'd go swimming. Yes. Yes, that was what she would do. She wouldn't spend the night hiding. She'd have a good time this year. Even without—male companionship. _Especially_ without male companionship.

Gaius Tullius met them at the entrance to his castle with a broad smile and open arms. Oddly enough, his presence accomplished what even Arthur could not—Lady Misery shut her trap and sat quietly, hands folded demurely in front of her. Codi rolled her eyes and glared daggers at the girl.

"Two-faced little snipe," she growled to Tristan. "What are the chances of her choking on something at dinner tonight and dying?"

Tristan considered this. "There's hope yet."

"I suppose it would be churlish of me to put a spider in her food," Codi remarked.

"Churlish and immature," Tristan assured her. "But entirely understandable."

"Ah, well, I can fantasize," she sighed.

"Cheer up," her friend replied. "After tonight, you never have to see her—or hear her—ever again."

"Except at the wedding," Codi grumbled. "Remind me why we're staying?"

"Arthur feels it would be rude not to," Tristan snorted, indicating his feelings on the subject. "And, anyway, I plan on sleeping through the wedding. So I don't know about you, but tonight is the last time I will see or hear Lady Misery."

"An excellent point," Codi conceded. "Bearing that in mind, I will try my very hardest not to accidentally spill my wine all over her or shove her face first into the stew or quietly push her down a well and leave her to rot or--"

"Codi."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

"What, am I giving you too many tantalizing ideas?" Codi asked. "Afraid you won't be able to contain yourself?"

"Yes, exactly," Tristan agreed, completely serious.

"Look," Codi said in a hushed voice, pointing to where Lady Misery was being escorted into the castle. "There she goes."

There was a moment of silence until the lady and all her attendants were out of earshot, then all the knights grinned at one another.

"Cheers, lads," Galahad laughed. "This calls for celebration."

"To the tavern?" Gawain suggested.

"To the tavern," Lancelot agreed heartily. "I could use a drink after that trip—and more besides."

"Starting early, Lancelot?" Bors joked. "It's Beltane—you've all night for that, lad!"

"It's never too soon, my friend," Lancelot replied, wagging a finger at him. "Nothing wrong with getting a head start."

Codi, who didn't usually join her comrades at the tavern, decided that the situation demanded a deviation from the norm. So, after they cared for their mounts, they all trouped down to the nearest tavern for a drink—and more besides, in Lancelot's case.

Codi settled herself between Tristan and Bors and sipped her wine, ignoring her friends' comments about her weak choice of beverage. They all drank mead or ale, both of which Codi found revolting. Codi watched quietly as the scene unfolded. It was as she expected: Gawain and Galahad were dicing with Lancelot, who had two girls in his lap while a third played with his curls. Arthur sat next to him, but was in deep conversation with Dagonet about something very serious, no doubt. Bors seemed very happy to simply sit and drink. Tristan leaned back against the wall and took a swig of ale occasionally.

Codi looked around and suddenly noticed Brenna hovering in the doorway. She looked somewhat lost and more weary than Codi had realized on the journey. The girl glared around defensively as challenging looks were thrown her way by the tavern wenches. Feeling a pang of guilt for forgetting her, Codi got up and tapped Arthur on the shoulder.

"Arthur, who do I ask to show me to my room?" she asked. "I think Brenna could do with a bath and a clean bed. She looks dead on her feet."

Arthur winced. Clearly he had forgotten her, too. "Just walk in—there's always someone to handle visitors. Tell them you're one of my company."

"Thank you." Codi made her way over to Brenna and smiled. "You know, a hot bath does wonders after a long ride."

"I haven't money for a room," Brenna muttered, looking away.

"You're staying with me," Codi informed her. "So we don't impose on the lady's hospitality overmuch or spend money on a room."

"Oh," Brenna said, looking very much relieved, and followed Codi back up to the castle.

A housekeeper-ish sort of servant showed them to their room with a lack of curious and horrified staring that Codi found refreshing. It had taken the village people and servants at the wall a week to stop staring at her wherever she went and were still slightly uncomfortable with her. The servant cheerfully agreed to send up a bath and curtsied before bustling off.

"Gawain said that you have a wolf," Brenna said suddenly. "Where is it?"

Once again taken aback by Brenna's blunt manner, she replied, "In the woods. He stays with me at the Wall, but people know him there. I don't want him getting shot by accident."

Brenna nodded in understanding. "How did you tame him?"

"I didn't," Codi said, flopping down on the bed. "He's...special."

Brenna's brow creased, but she didn't press. Changing the subject, she asked, "What will you do all night? Since you won't spend it with a man, I mean."

"I thought I might go swimming, actually," Codi shrugged. "It should be warm enough."

"Won't you be lonely?"

"I'll have my wolf to keep me company," Codi told her. "And besides, I'm used to spending the night alone. Why should tonight be any different?"

"Because we're celebrating the union of the Lord and Lady," Brenna said sternly. "Even if you can't sleep with a man, you could at least spend the night with a friend."

Codi smiled. "I think the Lady will forgive me. What of you? Do you have someone special in mind?"

"Um—not really, no," Brenna said, clearly uncomfortable. Codi blinked. Brenna had been so frank about everything; she hadn't expected shyness.

"You're lying," Codi informed her, not needed the itchy feeling in her mind to tell her so. "Come on, I won't laugh."

"I'm not afraid of you laughing," Brenna mumbled. "I just...he said that—that you were betrothed, once. I didn't want--"

"Gawain?" Codi asked, surprised. She frowned for a moment, unsure of how she felt about this, but then smiled reassuringly at the younger girl. "It's alright. That was a long time ago and nothing came of it. I'm happy for you—he's a good man."

"Well, it's not as if _I'm_ going to marry him, either," Brenna muttered. "It's Beltane, that's all."

Codi left Brenna to her bath when the water arrived and explored the halls aimlessly. When she heard a loud and all-too-familiar voice raised in petulant anger, her first instinct was to run away, but she stayed and listened, concentrating on what was being said. Apparently, Lady Misery had had a 'little snack' and now suffered from indigestion. Struck by a scrumptiously evil thought, Codi approached the room and waved cheerfully to the harassed looking maid who was exiting the room.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked casually.

"Stupid cow's blubbering about stomach pains and 'impaired bowel movements'," the maid huffed. "I don't know why she's surprised—after eating that much, of course none of it is going to come out properly. Fat pig; serves her right."

"How extremely upsetting," Codi murmured. "I'll wager she'd feel much better if she had her insides cleaned out—you know, if her—er, impaired bowels—were helped along a bit."

"I do believe you're right," the maid said in tones of vast enlightenment. A cruel smile lit the girl's face as she scampered away. "Poor dear—she does sound uncomfortable, doesn't she?"

"She ate quite a lot," Codi called after her. "Drastic measures might be necessary."

Filled with virtue—how nice it was to solve someone's problems—Codi strolled back toward her room to take her own bath and get dressed for the welcoming feast. Brenna was already clad in serviceable dress given her by the cheerful housekeeper, who had generously taken away Brenna's clothes to be washed.

"What are you so cheerful about?" Brenna asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing," Codi said, and slipped into the tub. It was still warm. "Will you be eating with us?"

"Oh, no—I'll eat with Geillis—the housekeeper—in the servant's wing," Brenna told her. She scrutinized Codi as she scrubbed vigorously at her hair. "What are you wearing to the feast?"

"What I came in," Codi replied. "It's not all that dirty."

"You can't go in trews," Brenna cried, aghast.

"Why not?" Codi asked, surprised. "I haven't worn a dress in more than a year. What's so special about a single meal?"

"It's a formal occasion," Brenna insisted. "Have you a dress? If not, I'll call Geillis and see if she can't find something."

"That's ridiculous," Codi snapped. "I'm a warrior, not a lady."

"Lady or warrior, you're still a woman," Brenna retorted, sounding eerily like a Vonora. "And you need a dress. The lord will be insulted—it will reflect badly on your commander as well as you."

"Brenna, I am not wearing a dress," Codi told her firmly.

"We'll just see about that," Brenna sniffed, and swept out of the room.

"That's rich," Codi snorted. "The would-be prostitute is lecturing me on propriety."

Codi was still splashing about in the tub when Tristan appeared in the doorway. Apparently oblivious to the fact that Codi wore not a stitch, he made himself comfortable in the chair next to her bed. Codi frowned at him for a moment, then shrugged. Nothing important was exposed—and anyway, it was just Tristan.

"A little bird told me that there has been a disagreement over what you will wear to the feast," he informed her.

"Aye," Codi shrugged. "But it's been resolved. I'm wearing what I came in, same as the rest of you."

"I think Brenna's right."

"Pardon?" Codi asked politely, certain that she'd heard wrong.

Tristan sighed. "Codi, not everyone in the world is as...free-thinking as Arthur is. They're already upset that you're part of the company, but it's none of their business, really. But appearing at _their_ feast wearing leggings and tunic—it would be rubbing it in their faces. I'm not saying that it's right or fair, but life isn't, is it? Humor them for a couple of hours—is wearing a dress really that big a price to pay to make Arthur's life a little easier?"

Codi scowled, knowing that she was caught.

"I'll have Brenna find you a dress," Tristan said, getting up. "I'm sure the lady can loan--"

"That won't be necessary," Codi said brusquely. "I have one."

Tristan raised his eyebrows but wisely did not say anything as he handed Codi a towel and left. Brenna came to find Codi struggling with the laces on her dress—the one good one that Vonora had insisted she keep.

"Here, let me," Brenna said, swatting Codi's hands away. She made quick work of the laces and stepped back to survey the result. "You look quite nice, you know—but we need to do something with your hair."

"Why can't I just braid it?" Codi whined. "I'm wearing the bloody dress, what more do you want?"

"Nothing fancy, I promise," Brenna coaxed, and pushed Codi down into a chair before she could resist.

Codi grumbled but surrendered to the inevitable. A few minutes later, Brenna came around in front of Codi to assess her work. She gave a brisk nod and stepped back.

"Can I go now?" Codi groused.

"What's that?" Brenna asked curiously, pointing to Codi's wrist.

"My cousin gave it to me," Codi said defensively. "I'm not taking it off."

"Fine, fine," Brenna said, flapping her hands. "Go on, you'll be late."

"It won't be my fault if I am," Codi muttered.

"Yes it will—we'd have been done sooner if you hadn't argued."

Codi slammed the door shut in answer and trudged down the stairs to the hall. Arthur sat with Gaius Tullius at the head of the table, while his knights evidently were elsewhere. Codi scanned the room until she spotted her friends. Taking a deep breath she strode quickly across the hall and plopped down between Tristan and Lancelot. Converstaion stopped. Codi became very interested in the tabletop, refusing to raise her eyes.

"What are you lot staring at?" Gawain said, coming to Codi's rescue. "You've all seen Codi in a dress before."

Codi shot him a grateful glance across the table and accepted a goblet of wine from a servant. The rest of the knights shrugged and returned to whatever it was they had been talking about. It took Codi a few minutes to relax, but when she did, things were just like normal.

"I wonder where Lady Misery is," Galahad remarked, using Codi's name for her. "It's her welcoming feast, after all."

Gawain, sitting across from her, was in a prime position to see the satisfied smirk that crossed Codi's face.

"What do you know that we don't?" he asked suspiciously.

Codi's smile widened.

"What have you done now?" Galahad asked, half apprehensive and half eager.

"Me?" Codi asked innocently. "I didn't do anything."

"If this has anything to do with spiders or wells, I shall be extremely vexed with you," Tristan told her sternly.

"Only because I beat you to it," Codi said, grinning impishly. She sat back and crossed her arms. "But, no, I really didn't do anything."

"Then why do you look like a cat who's just had a bowl of cream?" Lancelot asked, poking her. "Confess."

"I have suspicions only," Codi protested, holding up her hands.

"And these suspicions are?" Tristan pressed.

"I have reason to believe that my lady is having an...intimate experience...with her chamber pot," Codi told them, unable to suppress a snicker. "I heard her complaining earlier of 'impaired bowel movements' as a result of overeating. I merely suggested to her maid that she might be more comfortable with something to loosen things up a bit. Or a lot."

The knights stared at her for a moment, then collectively roared with laughter, even Tristan and Dagonet, the most restrained of the knights. Gawain and Galahad had to lean on each other for support and Lancelot had tears in his eyes. He pulled Codi to his side in a rough hug.

"Codi, queen of my heart," he said sincerely, "you have made me the happiest man alive."

"I can't think of anything more appropriate," Galahad said, smiling blissfully.

Tristan put a hand over his face and shook his head, shoulders shaking with laughter. "You are an evil girl."

"Nonsense," Bors roared, and raised his goblet. "To Codi!"

"Here, here," Gawain agreed heartily.

"Brilliant," Dagonet added, saluting her with his goblet and grinning.

Codi cast her eyes down demurely, positively oozing sincerity. "I was only trying to help."

"Of course, lass, of course," Bors said, thumping the table. "You couldn't have been more helpful."

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Galahad joked.

"Aye," Lancelot agreed. "I, personally, have no wish to become _quite_ that well acquainted with my chamber pot."

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well, that was fun--and, incidentally, inspired by my own unfortunate experience with a questionable hotdog at a football game. actually, I think it was the sourkraut. serves me right for trying something new--but more serious stuff on the way. I see more Tristan in the near future--if you're good ducklings and review lots and lots.


	17. Chapter 17

:GASP: my ducks, the moment has arrived! (well, not really--you still have to read up to the actual moment, after all) The moment you've all been waiting for (and nagging me about). Dum dum dum. Tristan makes his move. Granted, it might not be what you were expecting/hoping for, but hey, you can't have everything.

Enjoy!

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Codi bolted from the hall as soon as the lord rose, eager to be rid of the dress and her friends' strange looks. But, by the time she reached her room, Codi was beginning to have some second thoughts. She _was _a woman...and, after, all, she was spending the night by herself. She could feel female again with no one there to look at her strangely. Nodding briskly to herself, Codi grabbed her cloak and kicked off her shoes before heading back out.

As she turned a corner, a dark shape lurched forward, snatching at her. Codi skipped away and whipped a small knife out of her bodice, crouching defensively. In the dim torchlight, she could see a priest glaring at her from under his hood. Codi rolled her eyes. Just what she needed.

"Devil," he hissed. "Begone! Let not your evil taint this hall."

"Gladly," Codi said, and turned to go.

"You mock me!" The priest snatched at her sleeve, meaning to yank her back.

This time Codi slashed him sharply across the hand with her knife, leaving a small slice. She pointed the knife at him, letting him see his blood dripping from the tip.

"Touch me again," she said in a low voice, "and I will not be so restrained. Get out of my sight."

"You defy God's law," the priest snarled, somewhat manically. "Pagan witch—you will pay. You will know your proper place."

"I know my place very well," she informed him icily, and strode away. Muttering to herself, she added, "So much for wearing a dress."

Well, that was refreshing, Codi thought wryly as she left the town. She wasn't alone—plenty of young people were entering the wood for a night of revelry. She met Shasa just inside the tree line, where he had been skulking about, trying to avoid the merrymakers. Eager to be gone, he led the way, trotting briskly through the shadows cast by the bright crescent moon.

Grinning suddenly, she hiked up her skirts and sprang forward, startling Shasa as she shot past him. He recovered himself quickly and bounded after her, flicking her with his tail as he went by as if to say, _nice try._ For a long time they romped through the wood, darting after each other and rolling on the ground until they finally arrived at large rocky pool at the base of a small water fall. By this time, Codi was more than ready for a dip.

Quickly wriggling out of the dress and taking out the pins Brenna had put in her hair, Codi slipped into the water with a small gasp. The water was bitingly cold, though the night was warm. Shasa even joined her for a little bit, paddling after her as she swam around the pool. Giggling, she swam underneath and emerged behind him, tugging his tail. He glared balefully at her over his shoulder and climbed out of the pool, shaking vigorously. With a sneeze of disdain, he trotted off into the darkness.

"Lovely night for a dip."

Codi smiled from where she floated on her back in the concealing shadow of a rock. "Hullo, Tristan. Have you finished a-Maying, then?"

"I never spend Beltane 'a-Maying'," he told her.

"Why?" Codi asked, surprised. Tristan, while not the complete man-whore that Lancelot was, was hardly celibate.

She saw him shrug out of the corner of her eye and peeked around her rock. "Just my contrary nature, I suppose."

"You are a rather perverse creature," Codi agreed.

"No more so than you," he returned amiably. "You looked quite nice in that dress, you know—which is now, I see, crumpled and dirty and about to fall into the water."

"Don't gloat," she scolded as he rescued the garment in question. "It didn't do any good, anyway."

Tristan looked at her sharply—or rather, at the rock she was hiding behind. "What do you mean?"

Codi told him about the priest and swam out from behind her rock, careful to let only her head and neck show. Tristan frowned thoughtfully.

"I doubt it's more than ruffled feathers," he concluded. "But you'd best be careful, just in case—you never know what those madmen will do."

"I thought as much," Codi agreed. Grinning, she flicked a few drops of water at him. "Come on in," she urged. "The water's fine—there's only a slight chance of frostbite, anyway."

"I don't think so, lass," he replied, eying the water warily.

"Coward."

After a fair amount of cajoling, coaxing, insults, and ridicule, Tristan finally agreed.

"Turn around, then," he said gruffly. "And no peeking."

"I wouldn't dream of it," she murmured.

A small splash and muffled cursing heralded Tristan's entry into the pool. Codi turned to see him clinging to a rock and glowering darkly at her. Hastily turning a laugh into a hacking cough, she drifted closer.

"You didn't tell me twas too deep to touch," he accused, scowling.

"What, you can't swim?" She asked, genuinely surprised.

"I never exactly had a lot of spare time in which to learn, did I?" Tristan snapped, still clutching his rock.

Codi laughed, unable to help herself, but checked herself at Tristan's indignant glare. "No, no—I'm not laughing at you. I'm just used to thinking of you as...as...i don't know, I just never imagined you not knowing how to swim."

"I can swim," he said defensively. "Just—not well."

"Poor boy," Codi said sympathetically. "Here, I'll show you—Tristan, you're going to have to let go of the rock. There we go. Now kick your legs back and forth—no, no, no, you're trying to bring them up and down--"

After a few minutes of treading water, Codi tried to explain breast stroke, which seemed easiest. Tristan floundered about for a bit and then decided that his pride couldn't handle any more abuse and ordered her back behind her rock while he dressed.

"I'm decent," he called. "I'll build a fire while you dress."

Codi slithered out of the water and dried herself with her cloak before pulling on the dress. Gratefully, she plopped down next to Tristan with her back to the fire to let her hair dry. It had grown quite long in the—Christ, had it really been two years since she arrived? Two years since she had last seen her father? Since she had been home? Suddenly Tristan's voice echoed in her head. _A home is wherever you make one._ Aye, that was true.

"What are you thinking about?" Tristan asked softly, touching her shoulder.

"About my father," she sighed. "And home. Do you think of your home very often?"

"Sometimes," he admitted, leaning back on his elbows and stretching long legs out in front of him. "But this place is my home, now. I'm bound here by the same vow that binds you...I've made my peace with it."

"I know what you mean," Codi said, and smiled faintly. "But I think I'll measure every place I see by my own birthplace and find it somehow lacking. There's no place in the world like West Virginia."

"Tell me about your home," Tristan urged. "You've never said much about it."

Codi hesitated and stalled by braiding her hair, which was no longer sopping wet, then sighed and began. "West Virginia is...gorgeous. I lived on a farm in the foothills of the Allegheny mountains with my father—he trained race horses for a wealthy family. The weather there is milder—it doesn't rain nearly so much. Warmer, too, though winters there were no joke, sometimes. There were lots of horse farms around us—most were riding academies, though. I wanted to train horses like my dad."

"A woman?" Tristan asked dubiously. "I believe I've mentioned something of a sort before, but Arthur is an unusually liberal-minded man. I doubt any other man would treat you as more than a doll at best or a piece of meat at worst."

"Besides you, you mean?" Codi asked sardonically. "Merlin, for one."

"Another Roman," Tristan clarified.

Codi bit her lip, then made up her mind. She might as well tell him the whole of it. "The family wasn't Roman. No Roman ever set foot in my homeland. It lies far to the west across the ocean in a land called America. Right now only the natives live there—tribal people much like the Woads. But in a bit more than a thousand years it will be discovered by an Italian named Christopher Columbus and claimed for Spain. In the year of our Lord—well, their Lord—1492, to be exact." Tristan had gone very still and was staring inscrutably at her through narrowed eyes. Feverishly, she plowed on. "From then on Europeans—people from the land across the channel in the south—began to settle it, claiming different portions. Eventually Britain controlled most of the land but lost it in the Revolution—Americans wanted to govern themselves. Kind of made a botch of it for a while, if truth be told, but that's not the point. The point is that West Virginia is a state—that's sort of the same thing as a province—of America. The United States of America. There's fifty of them." Realizing that she was babbling almost incoherently, Codi suppressed a hysterical giggle and shut her mouth firmly.

"Codi," Tristan said slowly. "Are you telling me that you're from the future?"

"Er—yes. About fifteen hundred years into the future, actually."

Tristan nodded calmly. "Ah. That explains a lot."

"You believe me?" Codi asked incredulously.

"Silly lass, of course I do. I know you well enough to know when you're lying—it doesn't happen often, after all." Tristan hesitated, shooting a glance at her almost shyly. Almost—Tristan was never shy. "I thought it might be something of that sort, really."

Codi blinked. "You—you did?"

"Well—I knew you were not from this world the first time I laid eyes on you. That much was certain." Tristan shrugged and smiled crookedly. "I thought perhaps you were from the world of Faerie. There are stories, you know, of lasses being taken by the Folk and waking up years and years later. I suppose it's not so far fetched that you got sent back, instead."

"Oh," Codi said weakly. "You really believe me?"

"Don't be daft," Tristan growled. "You're not mad and you're not a liar."

Feeling an insane urge to laugh and cry at once, Codi pounced on him and threw her arms about his neck. Tristan's elbows gave way and he hit the ground with a muffled "Oof!" He laughed, wrapping his arms about her waist, and hugged her tightly. Then something odd happened. One moment he was merely Tristan—her friend and comrade—and then...inexplicably, something changed.

Codi was suddenly very aware of how warm and solid he was and how strong and secure his arms were, holding her close. Tristan was no longer laughing. His breathing was even, but energy seemed to crackle about him like a cloud, sparking wherever they touched. And they were touching in rather a lot of places, Codi observed giddily.

One of Tristan's hands glided slowly up from her waist, making her shiver. The hand traced a lazy circle on her back and moved to trace the line of her jaw, then her lips, nose, eyes and cheeks. Codi held still, hardly breathing and unable to move—Tristan's eyes held her captive more surely than a chain. The hand came to rest, cupping her cheek gently.

"You are beautiful, you know," he said softly. He brushed back a stray lock of hair and kissed her gently.

Codi gasped against his mouth, amazed at the sensations coursing through her. Tristan cradled her face tenderly as he kissed her, as if she might break. Codi trembled—she wanted him. She wanted him badly, and it frightened her. Already she felt as if she were drowning and part of her was only too happy to give herself over to the powerful current that tugged her along. The other part was yammering madly, screaming at her to run before she lost herself completely. If she let this continue—Codi was desperately frightened. Frightened that she would lose the self she had worked so hard to rebuild after bandits had stolen more than just her virginity.

With a cry, Codi wrenched herself away with such force that she lost her balance and felt backward. She scuttled away as Tristan sat up slowly, as if she were a skittish horse that might bolt at any moment. Codi scrambled to her feet, breath coming in short, fast gasps.

"Codi," Tristan said softly. "You needn't be afraid."

"And why not?" Codi asked, somewhat hysterically. "I think I've damn good reason to be afraid."

"Of me?" Tristan demanded. The force of those two words rocked her for a moment. "What reason do you have to be afraid of me?" He stood carefully. "It was I who found you in the forest, I who nursed you back to health, I who sent for your mother when I could do more. That is all I have ever done, Codi—care for you. You have no reason to fear me."

While he spoke, he moved slowly but surely toward her until he was less than an arm's length away. He picked up one of Codi's hands and placed it over his heart.

"My heart will stop beating before I do you harm," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Codi whispered raggedly. "I can't. I just—can't."

She snatched her hand from his grasp and backed away before turning and plunging into the forest. Tristan gazed after her, unmoving. After a long moment, he sat down and stared blindly into the fire.

Codi tore through the forest, heedless of the branches that slapped her face, and called wildly for Shasa within her mind. Without warning, Codi found herself on her knees in a small clearing. Shasa erupted from the underbrush and came immediately to her side. He nuzzled and pawed at her, whining anxiously. Codi wrapped her arms about him and buried her nose in his ruff, shaking uncontrollably. She had come so close—so close, but she had saved herself. She was still free, still strong, still independent of any man. Why then did she feel so alone, even with Shasa's warm, furry bulk pressed comfortingly against her face?

As Codi continued to shake and tremble, neither girl nor wolf noticed the cloaked figure that stole silently away.

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in case anyone was wondering--no, I'm not from West Virginia. I live in northwest New Jersey, in the foothills of the Appalachians, not the Alleghenies. For all you Americans who are under the mistaken impression that New Jersey is the armpit of the America, visit Sussex County sometime and you will see that it's a far cry from Hoboken or Newark. No one here but us chickens. Er--well, actually it's mostly cows and horses (with some sheep thrown in for good measure) but there is this daft person who lives on rt 206 who lets his chickens run loose on the side of the highway.

anyway. Review.


	18. Chapter 18

here you are, darlings! thanks for all the fantabulous reviews

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Codi left Shasa at the edge of the wood and trudged through the gates sometime later still feeling upset and overwhelmed. She was so preoccupied, in fact, that she never even saw the hooded and cloaked figure until he struck her. Damn cowardly thing to do, she thought as she lost consciousness. Whacking a girl over the head with a shovel. Psh.

When Codi awakened, she found herself lying on a hard cold surface. It was dark, but a torch was lit around the corner and by its light she could see that she was in a cell of some sort. Don't panic, she ordered herself. Look around. Am I bound? No. Is the door locked? Most unfortunately. But then, she had sort of expected that. Codi felt for her bodice knife and found that it had disappeared. Was there anything in the cell she might use as a weapon? Not unless she found some very creative use for a dead rat and some spiders. There was also a pile of some unknown substance in the corner, but she really, really did not want to even think about what it might be.

"Well, this sucks," Codi muttered to herself, and settled down to wait.

Propping her chin on her fist, Codi pondered her situation. What could she do? There must be something. Yes, there was something—what was it? Codi growled in frustration. She had a feeling she was missing something terribly important; something right under her nose. At last she figured it out and smacked herself rather more forcefully than she had originally intended. Rubbing her forehead gingerly, Codi shook her head disgustedly. She was so stupid.

"Ashai," she said firmly, with a triumphant grin. And for good measure (although he probably had known she was in danger before she had), "Shasa."

Slowly the grin faded away. Tristan couldn't be terribly pleased with her at the moment. And though she didn't believe for one moment that he would ignore her call, he had no idea where she was. How did it work, anyway? Codi wondered. Would Ashai be able to lead him to her? Maybe Shasa could follow her trail. But—what if Tristan didn't want anything to do with her anymore? What if he didn't come?

"Stop it," she growled at herself. Tristan wouldn't do that. Even if he never spoke to her again, he would still save her if he could. All she had to do was wait.

So she waited. Eventually, she began to get hungry and terribly thirsty. In an attempt to distract herself, she sang every song she knew until her throat became too dry to produce sound. She paced, she counted the stones in the wall, she turned cartwheels—and eventually fell into an uneasy slumber.

_"Where is she?" Tristan snarled, shoving Gaius Tullius against the wall while a terrified maid stood nearby, mouth agape. Tristan shook him like a rag doll. "Answer me!"_

_"Wh-who?" Tullius stammered, clearly bewildered. _

_"Tristan," Arthur said softly. More sharply, "Tristan! Step back."_

_With visible effort, Tristan let go of Gaius Tullius, but it was clear that he was ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. _

_"What's going on?" Arthur asked calmly._

_"Codi's gone," Tristan growled. "She's in trouble."_

_"What makes you think so?" Arthur asked blandly._

_"You doubt me?" Tristan asked incredulously, eyes narrowed. "I am certain, Arthur. It is something between Codi and me."_

_"Alright, what makes you think Gaius Tullius as aught to do with it?" Arthur continued, so calmly that Tristan wanted to strangle him._

_"What other explanation is there?" Tristan snapped, then stopped. "The priest," he breathed. He glared at the Roman lord who cowered before him. "How many priests have you on your estate?"_

_"One—and his acolytes," Tullius whimpered, double chin trembling. "Julius Augustus."_

_"Fetch him here," Tristan ordered._

_"I can't," Tullius cried, and cringed as Tristan stepped forward. "He—he went to his p-private workroom. He left orders not to be disturbed."_

_"Where is this private workroom?" Arthur asked reasonably. _

_"I don't know," Tullius whispered. "I beg of you, Arthur Castus, call off this barbarian."_

_Tristan lashed out, knocking the fat lord to the ground before Arthur restrained him. "Roman dog," he hissed. "What have you done with her?"_

_"Nothing!" Tullius cried, tears trickling down his face. "N-nothing! If Julius Augustus saw fit to take her, I must believe he had good reason. Would you gainsay a man of god?"_

_ Tristan leaned in close, almost nose to nose with the trembling, sweating Roman lord. "I will find her if I have to tear this place apart brick by brick. And if she is harmed—if there is so much as a scratch on her—I will kill the man who did it, man of god or no."_

Codi struggled back into consciousness, gasping and sweating. Well, she thought weakly. The Sight. How exciting. Even more exciting was the fact the Tristan didn't hate her, after all. The fact that no one seemed to know where the priest or his workroom—and therefore Codi—was...that was less than exciting. In fact, it was rather upsetting.

Weakened by hunger and dehydration and having nothing better to do, Codi dozed on and off, wakened by strange noises and fragments of nightmares. The strange dreams that had plagued her before she bonded with Shasa began to reappear. Often she would wake with the scent of deer or streams or even of Shasa himself in her nostrils and odd, fragmented images and flashes of dreams.

Codi awoke at one point to find a small bowl of water and a pathetically small, stale piece of bread just inside the bars of her cell. With a cry of relief, she gulped down the water and nearly gagged at the taste. Obviously, someone wanted to keep her alive—for now—but seemed less than concerned with her health in general. Codi eyed the bread dubiously but decided to take the risk. It was hard as a rock and barely edible. The only upshot was that the arduous task of actually eating the damn thing occupied her for some time.

Codi's nightmares receded, but she dreamed more and more often that she was a wolf. Sometimes she was running with Shasa by her side through shadows cast by the moon, sometimes stalking prey silently through the underbrush, sometimes sleeping lazily in a patch of sunlight, her pack mates sprawled carelessly about her. She spent more time asleep than awake, more time as a wolf than as a human. Codi could no longer tell the difference between waking and sleep, human and wolf. Everything was one and the same.

A small clatter heralded the arrival of water. Weakly, Codi reached out a hand—or was it a paw? Codi closed her eyes. The water was bad, anyway. She could smell it from here. Vaguely she heard voices conferring outside her cell. Deep, guttural, male voices. One more commanding than the others—familiar. Where have I heard him before? Codi wondered. Annoying voice—memorable if only for that. I wonder...

Whatever she was wondering (she wasn't quite certain, herself) was lost forever as a key turned in the lock. Codi raised her head listlessly, staring at the two brawny men who had entered her cell. They seemed rather surprised that she was capable of even that much, but shrugged and came forward without any indication of caution. What need was there, after all?

Rather more need than any of them had thought, including Codi. At first she thought that she had passed out and was dreaming or hallucinating again. But the white faces and terrified gasps of the two men were not hallucinations. Neither was she imagining the low rumbling that was coming from her chest that rose in pitch and turned into a snarl as she leaped forward, jaws snapping shut on soft, yielding flesh. Codi worried the arm she held in her teeth viciously, causing the man to scream in pain and terror.

Scum! How dare he presume to imprison her? A mere man, made of soft flesh and armed with nothing but blunt teeth and soft fingernails—she would tear him limb from limb for that alone. For being the puny, insignificant being that he was. With a yelp, Codi released her prize and glared hatefully up at the man who held a stout wooden stick. He had rapped it viciously across her nose, forcing her to release her hold.

She showed him her teeth, silently promising him a more thorough introduction at a later date. If she had anything to say about it, the horrid little priest would be far more well acquainted with her fangs than he cared for. The priest glared back at her, puffed up and haughty now that there were stout iron bars between him and the snarling wolf.

"Demon," he yelped. He coughed and said in a much lower voice, "Satan's mistress—I will not allow your taint to spread. You will not live out the day."

Again Codi's lips curled back, exposing wickedly curved fangs. The priest laughed nastily.

"My, what large teeth you have! But what use will they be when you've an arrow in your heart?"

When Tristan arrived at the gates with Shasa at his heels, the guards were less than pleased but were willing to be persuaded—at sword point, most men are, Tristan reflected. The entered the courtyard and Shasa went to work immediately, sniffing into any and every nook and cranny in the place. They had been searching the town, surrounding areas and even the castle itself for nearly three days trying to find some trace of Codi. But whoever had taken her had been clever about it indeed—Shasa could find no scent.

"Tristan!"

Tristan turned to see Galahad and Gawain approaching, a weedy teenager struggling impotently in their combined grip. Brenna hurried along beside them.

"He's one of the acolytes," Galahad explained. "Brenna found him lurking in the chapel."

"We thought you might like to do the honors," Gawain added thoughtfully, pushing the boy roughly forward.

"I won't tell you anything!" the boy squeaked, chin set stubbornly. "Filthy pagans."

"I see," Tristan said mildly. "You won't tell me where your master's private workroom is? He is...hosting...a friend of ours, you see, but she really must be coming home now."

"She is a witch," the boy spat. "A demon. She must be cleansed—and exterminated."

Tristan contemplated the angry youth before him. He smiled abruptly and beckoned Shasa to his side. "See this lad, here? He is extremely fond of our friend. I do believe he would be most upset to see her harmed. In fact, I think he might even be angry..."

As if on cue, Shasa's hackles rose and a low, ominous rumble sounded from his chest. The boy paled and backed up a step, breathing quickly. He crossed himself and pointed accusingly at the wolf.

"Of course he would," the boy sneered. "He is her mate. Your _friend_ spent the night in his company—I followed her at my master's behest. I saw them rolling on the ground and—and--"

Tristan raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "Aye? Don't stop now, lad."

"Your whore spreads her legs not only for all of you, but for _animals_," he hissed viciously. "She will die, and the land will be free of her t--"

The boy gave a strangled cry as Tristan calmly grabbed him by throat and squeezed. Brenna made an outraged noise and delt the lad several swift blows the shins before Gawain grudgingly pulled her back. Tristan regarded the boy seemingly without malice and turned him so that he could see Shasa, who bared his teeth.

"You see him?" Tristan asked. "He likes to eat evil, snot-nosed little brats just like you. I would be more than happy to accommodate him if you don't prove cooperative. He likes to savor each bite, you know...one limb at a time. No other way to eat the little bastards, eh, lad?"

Shasa snarled and salivated in agreement while the boy's eyes widened in horror. A hawk's fierce cry sounded from above and Tristan forced the boy's face upwards.

"And there's my bonnie lass. She'll no doubt enjoy such little tidbits as the bright boyo there may feel inclined to leave her. Your eyeballs, for instance, or perhaps your liver. Now," he continued pleasantly. "You are going to lead me to your master's workroom right now, without a fuss. Understood?"

The boy nodded jerkily. Tristan released him and motioned for him to proceed.

"Don't bother trying to run," Gawain advised. "Yon laddie's much faster than you are."

Tight lipped, the boy led them back to the chapel. He hesitated a moment at the altar, but a low growl from Shasa spurred him on. He led them behind the altar and kicked back a rug, exposing a trap door. Tristan held up a hand and turned to Brenna.

"Run and fetch the others here, lass, in case something goes amiss."

Brenna nodded and ran off. Tristan turned back to the boy and motioned for him to open the door. Galahad caught the boy by the collar of his shirt as he made to jump down the hole, no doubt to warn his master. Galahad held him at an arm's length, as if he were dirty.

"Should we tie him up?" he wondered.

Gawain smirked. "No need—I'm sure our wee doggie wouldn't mind keeping him company."

The 'wee doggie' hunkered down in front of the boy, watching his every move. The acolyte glared murderously at them, but didn't move a muscle.

"Not a sound," Tristan warned him, and slipped a knife out of his belt before hopping through the hole.

Tristan landed lightly on his feet and came face to face with a big, burly man clutching a clumsily bandaged arm to his chest. He stared dumbly at Tristan for a moment, then hastily moved aside. Just to be sure, Tristan struck him on the temple with the hilt of his knife and moved swiftly out of Gawain's way. Hearing noises, he headed purposefully toward them and saw yet another man, even bigger than the last, aiming a crossbow into a cell while a weasely-looking man hovered behind him. Without stopping to think, Tristan flicked his wrist, sending the knife winging through the air. The crossbow fell out of the man's hands as he fell with the knife buried to the hilt in the side of his neck. The weasel-man turned furiously and found three very angry knights pointing very sharp and pointy swords at him.

"Where is she?" Tristan's voice was deceptively soft.

The man—he must be the priest, Tristan thought disdainfully—cackled madly and gestured toward the cell. Hearing a gasp behind him, Tristan glanced into the cell and was briefly shocked. A wolf stood splay-legged with its fur on end and its head low. It snarled feebly in between pants, its ears laid flat against its skull. After a moment, he shook himself. The Change, he forced himself to think calmly. Merlin had said she might have it. Well, obviously.

"Keys," Tristan said simply. When he received no response, he laid the point of his sword at the priest's throat and pressed gently, bringing a drop of blood. "Now."

Swallowing, the priest pointed. Gawain hurriedly fetched the keys and then stopped, unsure of what to do. Clearly he hadn't realized that the wolf was Codi. Tristan nodded toward the cell, not taking his eyes of the priest's.

"Galahad," Tristan said as Gawain inserted the key. "Tie him up."

Tristan slipped through the door and moved slowly toward the panting, wild-eyed wolf, completely ignoring Gawain's hissed protests.

"Codi," he said soothingly. "It's alright, lass. Hush, little one. You've gone and changed yourself, have you? Your grand da said you might. You're turning into a regular sorceress, eh? Aye, my witchling, my magelet. It's time to come back now, _vrya._ Come on, then..."

Still crooning soothing nonsense, Tristan edged slowly toward the wolf. She watched him warily, but made no move to harm him. Tristan had the distinct impression that she hadn't the strength to do so, but he hoped it was more because she recognized him. Finally, he knelt and slowly reached out a hand, placing it gently on the wolf's head. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, suddenly, it wasn't a wolf under his hand at all, but a dirty, gaunt young woman. Codi collapsed against Tristan, trembling. Tristan, weak with relief, held her tightly, cradling her head gently against his shoulder. He allowed himself a moment to revel in the fact that she wasn't dead and then looked up.

"Water," he said urgently.

"Here." Brenna pushed through the knights, handing him a flask. She responded to his raised eyebrows with a snort. "Prisons aren't generally concerned with the quality—or quantity—of water given to their inhabitants. I though she might need some."

Tristan nodded and dribbled a few drops onto Codi's lips. Her tongue flicked out feebly at first, then more eagerly. He gave her a bit more in this fashion and then handed the flask back to Brenna.

"Go to the kitchens and have them boil water with sugar and a bit of salt mixed in. Have it ready in her room—and build a fire," Tristan added, noting that Codi's trembling had not ceased.

Brenna ran to do as he said and Tristan rose with Codi in his arms. He turned to see his fellow knights staring at Codi with mingled awe, fear, and a sort of horrified fascination. Arthur met his eyes.

"You are going to explain, I trust," he observed mildly.

"As soon as I've seen her settled," Tristan promised.

His eyes flicked toward the priest and scowled. There were so many things he would like to do to that weasel...With a sigh of regret, Tristan carefully handed Codi up through the trap door to Gawain, who met his eyes almost challengingly. Tristan climbed up quickly and reached for Codi. Gawain hesitated a moment, but grudgingly handed over his burden.

Brenna had done everything he asked, and so Tristan soon had Codi settled in bed and slowly taking bits of the bits of the drink. She was groggy and confused, but awake. Tristan sang softly as he worked, for it had often soothed her in the past.

"I knew you would come," Codi muttered, blinking blearily up at him. "I dreamed it."

"The Sight too, hm?" Tristan murmured. "If it brought you hope, I'm glad of it."

"Me, too," Codi whispered, eyes drifting shut.

Tristan eyed the liquid left over, wondering if he should try to have her finish it. After a moment, he shook his head. He'd gotten more down than he'd hoped. He'd reheat it and give it to her when she woke up. Tristan sat back, observing her silently. She would be alright, he reassured himself. He stood up—Arthur was waiting for him to explain how a wolf had turned into one of his knights—and touched her cheek briefly before leaving. What exactly _was_ he going to tell Arthur, anyway?

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there you are, duckies, hope you like it. review lots and lots!


	19. Chapter 19

Tristan looked slowly around at each knight's face, seeing mostly confusion, but no small amount of fear. It had taken rather longer than any of them would have liked as a result of certain complications, but they were now assembled in Arthur's room. After three days, they were anxiously waiting for both news of Codi's well-being and an explanation concerning her rather unexpected new talent. Tristan hesitated, unsure of how much to say, how to say it, and where to begin.

"Well?" Arthur asked, a trifle irritably.

"Codi will be--she won't die any time soon," Tristan assured them. "I've been giving her mixtures to help with dehydration."

"Yes, and..." Arthur prompted, eyes narrowing.

Tristan sighed. "You all know my hawk isn't just a bird and Codi's wolf isn't just a wolf, aye?" Seeing nods all around, he continued, "Well...it's something in our blood—or perhaps our souls, I don't know—that calls to us. An emptiness that can only be filled by the gods. There are three gifts—or four, if you count the animal itself. I myself have only the gift of Healing. Codi apparently has the Sight and the Change, as well."

"So she can turn into a wolf at will?" Lancelot asked, looking slightly alarmed.

"Er—that's how it's supposed to work," Tristan said uncomfortably. "I think circumstance may have brought it on prematurely. She still seems a bit...not there. Nightmares and such, you see--"

"Tristan, what are you trying not to say?" Arthur asked apprehensively. Tristan had always been extremely direct and to the point simply because he normally didn't like to talk much. If he was trying to beat about the bush now, it must be something bad.

"She can't seem to control it quite yet," Tristan said resignedly. "She keeps popping back and forth while she sleeps. Sometimes even when she's awake. And—and she doesn't seem to have any...humanity in her when she's a wolf."

"Well—if she's a wolf, then--"

Tristan cut Galahad off with a curt gesture. "It's not supposed to be like that. Morgaine Changes and she always said she retained a knowledge of self. What was it she said? She said she simply knew things both as a raven and a woman, but was still Morgaine. Codi doesn't have that."

"So," Arthur said slowly. "We have a delirious girl who involuntarily changes into a wolf and has no idea who she is."

"When she's a wolf," Tristan clarified. "When she's awake—and human—she knows exactly who she is."

"Does she realize that she's turning into a wolf?" Arthur asked, suspiciously calmly.

Tristan shook his head miserably. "She thinks she's dreaming. I hadn't the heart to tell her otherwise."

The knights were silent for a moment. Then Galahad spoke up, saying what they were all thinking.

"So what do we do?"

Blank stares, all around.

"Perhaps...Morgaine?" Gawain suggested tentatively.

Tristan blinked. Why hadn't he thought of that? Because you wanted to care for her yourself, a little voice in his head informed him. You want to keep her for yourself. Tristan shook his head irritably.

"That's certainly an idea. I'm not sure what she could do, but it would do no harm, at any rate. I'll send my lass straight away."

Tristan turned to go, but Arthur stopped him.

"Tristan--" Tristan turned back. "You've kept her locked in, haven't you?"

"Aye," Tristan nodded. "And no one but Brenna or myself inside—and the wolf. I thought he might help."

"Good."

Tristan let himself into Codi's room and locked the door behind him. Turning, he let out a cry of mingled surprise and frustration to see Codi, wolf-shaped and lying pinned beneath Shasa's weight amid a pile of torn pillowcases and scattered feathers. Enough is enough, he thought grimly, and marched over to the pair. Shasa released his erstwhile mistress and sat, giving Tristan leave to speak his mind.

"Listen here," he began, roughly gripping Codi's head between his hands. The she-wolf seemed too surprised to protest. "That's enough, Codi. You're human. Even if you're shaped as a wolf, you're still Codi. A woman. And if you can't even manage that, you might at least act like a wolf, not a naughty puppy."

Suddenly he found himself holding a much smaller head with markedly less fur. Codi's eyes, once more blue-gray instead of yellow, looked mournfully out at him from between his palms. Tristan sighed and sat back.

"Why is this happening?" she whispered. "I can never tell whether I'm dreaming or—or--"

"I know," Tristan said softly. "It's not you're fault."

"Then something's wrong with me," Codi said simply. "I'm warped—twisted—"

Tristan resisted the urge to pull her into his lap and comfort her. "There's nothing wrong with you," he told her. "We'll sort this out."

Shasa whined and nuzzled her ear in agreement. Codi slung an arm about his neck and buried her face in his ruff, heaving a sigh.

"Why is there always something going wrong?" she demanded, voice muffled by Shasa's fur. "Why can't I just be normal?"

In spite of himself, Tristan's mouth twitched. "Codi, you're a time traveling knight who has prophetic dreams and can turn into a wolf. I think anything approaching normal is out of the question at this point."

"I could at least be a freak without complications," Codi muttered. "And my dream—singular—wasn't prophetic. It was showing me what was happening in the present."

"Don't split hairs," Tristan said lightly, and pulled her to her feet. "How do you feel?"

"Still tired," Codi admitted. "But it's more because I'm afraid to fall asleep than anything else."

"Gawain suggested I send for your mother," Tristan told her. "Do you want me to?"

"No!" Codi said with startling vehemence. She looked down and muttered, "I—I don't want her to see me like this. I don't want her to think--"

"Codi," Tristan said softly. "It's not your fault. Your mother wouldn't think less of you for it. She could help you."

"Not yet." Codi shot him a pleading look. "Give me a few more days—then call her."

Tristan looked out the window at the setting sun. "You should try to get some sleep. You look half dead."

Indeed she did. She was pale and gaunt and had dark circles beneath red-rimmed eyes. She swayed slightly as she stood before him, even with Shasa supporting her. Tristan nodded toward the goblet of medicine and small bowl of soup on the table beside her bed. Codi still couldn't keep down much, but she couldn't live off of salt and sugar forever.

"Try to finish that and then get in bed," he told her, and turned to go.

"Wait--"

Tristan looked back to see Codi open and close her mouth as if she wanted to say something but couldn't quite get it out. He waited patiently until she blurted,

"Could you—could you stay? I know you," she explained hurriedly. "When I Change—and I know who I am, too, when you're there."

Tristan blinked. "Aye—aye, of course I'll stay."

"Thank you," Codi said, relief evident in her voice. She drank the medicine Tristan had made her as quickly as possible and made a face of distaste. "Urgh. That stuff's nasty."

"The soup tastes better," Tristan assured her, settling in the armchair across from her bed. "Or it should, anyway."

The soup did taste better. After nothing but foul medicinal mixtures for days on end, it was nothing short of ambrosia. It was warm and tasty and filling, and left Codi drowsy and satisfied. She crawled into bed and let her head fall back with a sigh. Without opening her eyes, she draped an arm over Shasa's side and asked,

"Tristan, how did you find me? And where was I, anyway?"

"The priest's private 'workshop'--meaning dungeon and torture chamber—below the church," Tristan said grimly. "As for how—Brenna found one of his acolytes and we, ah...persuaded him to lead us to you."

"Very politely, I imagine," Codi said with a sleepy smile. "You're always such a gentleman."

"Oh, to be sure," Tristan agreed. "However, I had substantial help from Bright-Eyes, there. And my bonnie lass, of course."

Shasa thumped his tail smugly as Codi hugged him.

"You know, I must have been awake for more than twenty minutes before I thought to call you through Ashai," Codi told him. "I felt so stupid."

"Aye, well, at least you can admit it to yourself," Tristan said philosophically. "They say that's the first step to recovery—admitting you have a problem."

Tristan caught the pillow Codi hurled at him and laughed.

"Beast," Codi muttered. "Give me back my pillow."

Tristan smirked. "Not a chance."

With excess ceremony, Tristan fluffed the pillow and set it behind his head, sighing dramatically and crossing his arms. He cracked an eye open, still smirking.

"Good night, witchling."

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Codi awoke with a gasp, heart pounding. Had it happened again? Was she human or wolf? With the moon obscured by clouds, she couldn't tell. Codi let out a small whimper of fear as she felt her consciousness begin to ebb. She was rapidly losing her sense of "Codi"--the knowledge of who she was. Shasa licked her hand reassuringly. Hand, not paw. She lifted her hand to her face, feeling carefully. All human.

With a sigh, Codi licked her dry lips and froze as something sharp pricked her tongue. Carefully, she ran her tongue over her teeth and shivered. Two tiny fangs curved down from her gums. In her panic, she nearly lost herself. _No_, she thought fiercely. I will not give in—I won't! Fight, she told herself. Fight it.

Without realizing it, Codi suddenly found herself tumbling out of bed and staggering toward Tristan, who jerked awake. He moved to get up, concern etched in every line on his face. The moon had come out, Codi observed dizzily, and collapsed at his feet.

Tristan pulled her to her feet and held her tightly as she clung desperately to his shirt. Codi turned up her face to look into his and caught her breath. Tristan. So wild and yet human. I know him, she thought feverishly. And he knows me. _I _know me. So wild—he's wild. Like me. Codi slowly reached up and traced the scars on his cheeks. The the moonlight, he was all shadows and angles—he was beautiful.

"Tristan--" she whispered. "I need you. Make me human again."

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked softly, smoothing back her hair.

"I need it," Codi said raggedly. "I need you."

Tristan pressed his forehead against hers. "I'm right here."

"Make me human," Codi murmured. "Please—I need to feel human."

In reply, Tristan lifted her gently and carried her to the bed.

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Yay! Tristan gets some! woo hoo! sorry I didn't go--you know, more in deapth, but I don't do smut. Sorry.


	20. Chapter 20

Codi awoke before dawn the next morning. Her first thought was that she felt like herself for the first time since waking up in that cursed cell. Her head was clear and blissfully empty of anyone but herself. There was no sense of that hovering oblivion waiting to consume her. For once, she had gotten a full night's sleep, Codi thought, arching her back stretching luxuriously. No wonder she felt--

Codi froze mid-stretch and snatched her hand back as if burned. Either Shasa had lost all of his fur or there was someone in her bed. Since the chances of Shasa going bald in a single night were depressingly slim, it seemed that someone was, in fact, in her bed. Suddenly everything from the night before came rushing back. What should she do? Should she move and risk waking him or--

"Codi."

Maybe if she just pretended to be asleep...?

"Codi, I know you're awake."

Rat farts.

Reluctantly, Codi rolled over and faced him, pulling the blanket up to her chin. She was, unsurprisingly, quite naked. Tristan chuckled and propped himself up on one elbow, looking inquisitively down at her.

"You pick a fine time to suddenly go all modest around me," he remarked.

"Um." For lack of anything better to do—or say—Codi let her eyes wander down Tristan's bare torso, noting the snake-like pattern winding down from his shoulder to his elbow. It looked like it might continue onto his back. Why didn't I see that before? she wondered, then blushed.

"Codi." Tristan tipped her chin up with a finger. "Hey. This is me, remember?"

"I-I know that," Codi stammered. "I just—I kind of forgot and then I woke up and—um—I—well...I'm naked."

Tristan laughed. "Aye, I imagine you would be."

Codi blushed beet red and pulled the blanket closer, inching away. Seeing this, Tristan reached under the blankets and pulled her into his arms, making her squeak with surprise. Gently, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and kissed her.

"I'm sorry, _vrya—_I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"I know," Codi muttered. "It's just—last night seemed like a dream."

"A good dream?" Tristan asked, head cocked.

"Yes," Codi said shyly.

"Good," Tristan said simply, and felt her suddenly relax.

He took the opportunity to pull her closer so that her head fit comfortably under his chin. Idly he traced the tattoo on her back and was rewarded with a small sigh of contentment.

"That feels nice," Codi murmured. Hesitantly, she asked, "Tristan? I didn't—I didn't change while I was sleeping, did I?"

"No, I think I would have noticed if you had," Tristan assured her. "It's a relief to know you can control it, now."

Codi blinked in surprise and then grinned. "I can still do it? On purpose?"

Tristan smiled down at her. "Only one way to find out."

Forgetting her earlier shyness, Codi jumped out of bed and paused, wondering what to do. Wolf, she thought firmly, closing her eyes. She called up in her mind images and scents and sounds from her wolf-dreams. When she opened them again, she found herself considerably closer to the ground. Shasa bounded over eagerly to greet her, tail whipping back and forth as he playfully snapped at her flank. With a yip of joy, Codi fell on him with a mock growl and the two wolves rolled about the room, snarling merrily.

Tristan cleared his throat meaningfully. "I'm feeling somewhat left out, you know."

Codi bounced onto the bed, Changed, and pounced on Tristan in rapid succession. Tristan caught her easily and laughed at the exultant grin on her face. He had a feeling this was going to make life a lot more interesting. Codi paused suddenly, staring solemnly into his eyes. Tentatively, she touched his face.

"It's because of you," she said. "You let me remember who I am—you saved me. You've saved me so many times, Tristan..." Codi grinned crookedly. "One day I'll save your life and we'll be square."

"Is that prophecy?" he asked, only half-jokingly.

"No," Codi said with a smile. "It's just bound to happen, sooner or later."

"Well, let's hope it's later rather than sooner," Tristan said firmly. Suddenly his grip on her tightened and he gave her a rakish grin. "In the meantime, you look very much like a damsel in distress."

Codi smiled back, a glint of mischief in her eye. "Why—I believe I am feeling rather distressed. Are you going to rescue me, good Sir Knight?"

Tristan's grin grew wider. "Something like that, yes."

Tristan let himself out of Codi's room some time later, closing the door on Codi soaking in the tub. He couldn't help but smile as he made his way back to his rooms for a bath of his own—and clean clothes. Tristan grimaced. He was surprised Codi had even let him near her (much less bed her), smelling like he did. Why was it that whenever Codi was sick, he ended up smelling like a dead fish? Ah, well, that's what he got for taking care of someone around the clock. Next time, he told himself firmly, he could let someone else take a turn.

"Oof!"

Tristan caught Brenna's arm and steadied her.

"Watch where you're going you—oh, it's you." Brenna looked up at him uncertainly. "You seem to be in a good mood."

"Codi's awake and well, if you want to say hello," he informed her.

"You're sure she won't turn into a wolf and eat me?" Brenna asked lightly, though he thought she looked slightly concerned.

"Quite sure," Tristan assured her, and watched her scamper off.

After his bath, Tristan headed down to the main hall. Bors, Dagonet, Lancelot, and Arthur were sitting together, eating breakfast. Tristan sat down next to Bors and accepted the porridge and milk pushed his way. He practically inhaled the food and gulped down the milk in seconds. Spooning more porridge into his bowl with bits of dried fruit and cream, he continued at a somewhat more decorous pace.

"Where are Gawain and Galahad?" he asked between bites.

"One of the stable lads forgot to close the gates and several horses got out," Arthur explained. "They're helping to collect them."

"Ah." Tristan nodded and continued eating.

"Have you contacted Morgaine?" Arthur asked him.

Tristan froze, spoon halfway to his mouth, then hastily finished the rest of his porridge. "No—she's fine now. But if she comes down later, don't let her eat any porridge or milk or anything heavy."

Before they could ask any awkward questions, Tristan stood up and beat a hasty retreat while the knights stared after him in consternation. They all looked at each other in confusion, shrugged, and returned to their breakfast. If Tristan said she was fine, she was fine.

Codi smiled at Brenna when she let herself in without bothering to knock. She was in the process of washing her hair and it felt wonderful. Everything was wonderful. Brenna regarded her with narrowed eyes and then smiled shrewdly.

"I just passed Tristan in the hallway," she remarked. "He seemed to be in a very good mood. Very smiley."

Codi blushed. "That so?"

"That is so," Brenna said. "In fact, he was coming from your room. Smiling. And disheveled."

"Tristan's always disheveled," Codi snorted.

"The drawstring on his trousers was undone," Brenna informed her.

Codi turned pink and mumbled something unintelligible.

"I knew it!" Brenna crowed. "And after all that tripe about not being able to--"

"Shut up!" Codi hissed, but she was still grinning. "Someone could hear. And what were you looking at his trousers for, anyway?"

"Oh, I wasn't," Brenna told her cheerfully. "I just wanted to know if I was right about you two--"

"Shut up!"

"Well, I think it's grand," Brenna declared. She sat down on the bed and leaned forward conspiratorially. "So—how was it? Was it gentle or passionate or--"

"Brenna!" Codi gasped, scandalized.

"What?"

"I'm not going to give you a blow by blow account of—of—or any sort of account!"

"Why not?" Brenna demanded.

"It's private," Codi snapped. "And besides—there's a saying where I come from: don't kiss and tell."

"That's a stupid saying," Brenna muttered. "Will you tell me if you liked it, at least?"

Codi smiled and became very engaged in scrubbing her hair. "Yes."

"Is that 'yes, I'll tell you' or 'yes, I liked it'?"

"Both," Codi said.

"Will you do it again?"

"I--" Codi frowned. "I don't know. If—if he wants to, I suppose. I mean, it might not have meant anything to him..."

"That's a possibility," Brenna agreed. "I wouldn't worry, though."

"Brenna," Codi said suddenly. "Where have you been sleeping?"

"In the servants' quarters," Brenna said casually, then grinned. "Most of the time."

Codi looked at her suspiciously. "And the rest of the time?"

"Gawain's bed."

"Well, well," Codi said, eyebrows raised. "Just Beltane, was it?"

"It still doesn't mean anything," Brenna shrugged. "We suit each other, that's all. Get out of the tub, lazybones, your fellow knights have been sick with worry."

"I doubt it was worry," Codi retorted, but accepted the towel Brenna handed her. "Ale, maybe, or mead, but not worry."

"Tsk," Brenna scolded. "You undervalue yourself. I assure you, all they ale they drank was solely on your account."

"Well, I do feel loved," Codi murmured. All the knights—Gawain and Galahad in particular—regularly consumed impressive amounts of alcohol.

"They really were quite worried, though," Brenna told her earnestly. "You looked—well, you were quite a sight when we found you."

"I imagine I was," Codi agreed with a sigh. "Well enough, I'll get dressed and go see them; no doubt they'll want to see for themselves that I'm—well, me again."

"No doubt," Brenna agreed. She looked at Codi curiously and asked, "Can—can you still do it? Change into a wolf, I mean."

Codi grinned. "Aye."

"Are you a witch?"

Codi opened her mouth to say "no, of course not" then shut her mouth. Tristan had been right: she had traveled through time, could change into a wolf (and converse with one), and had dreams that were... highly informative. Did that make her a witch? A sorceress? Codi had no doubt that her mother was one, but her mother could do a great many things that she couldn't. So what did that make her? Codi sighed.

"I'll let you know when I figure that out," she told Brenna, and finished dressing.

Still braiding her hair, Codi followed Brenna down to the hall. They passed several servants, all of whom hurried by without making eye contact. Codi saw one cross herself surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye and another servant made some sort of sign as well—the pagan equivalent, most likely. People whispered behind their hands and stared at her as she passed. At first Codi was puzzled, but then thought of the racket she had probably made while in wolf form. No wonder they were skittish.

They met Arthur and Lancelot outside the Hall. Both were extremely happy to see her alive and well (and human). Arthur gripped her shoulder briefly and smiled down at her without saying anything. Lancelot, of course, was much more exuberant in his greeting. With many a 'pearl of my heart' and 'essence of delight' and 'fairest of knights' and other such endearments, he dragged her off to find the others, who had gone to the stables to clean their tack in preparation for the ride home.

They were all there, perched on bales of hay or various boxes, scrubbing industriously at tack or weapons. Tristan looked up when she entered and gave her a swift smile and a wink. He nudged Gawain, who was next to him, and went back to cleaning his saber. Gawain jumped up with a cry of delight and before Codi could protest, gave her a bone-cracking hug. Although she couldn't see (her face was squashed against Gawain's chest) she knew that the new pressure coming from behind her was Gawain.

"Are you alright?" Gawain asked, finally letting go of her.

"A little tired," Codi admitted. "But nothing fresh air and exercise won't cure."

"Gods, Codi, we were so--"

"Enough of that," Tristan interrupted. "She's fine now, that's what matters."

"The question is," Arthur put in, "is she well enough to stay in the saddle?"

"Aye," Codi said immediately.

"Tomorrow," Tristan added firmly.

Arthur sighed. "Tomorrow, then, no later. We've already outstayed our welcome."

"Who would have guessed that little Codi would become the most feared of Arthur's knights?" Galahad laughed. "What was that name that we heard them calling her?"

"Lycisca," Arthur supplied with a rueful smile.

Codi laughed. "Fitting."

"What does it mean?" Lancelot asked curiously.

"Wolf girl." To everyone's surprise, it was Dagonet who answered. He returned their startled looks with raised eyebrows. "Am I right?"

"Aye," Codi said. "I didn't know you had any Latin."

"I've picked up a few things over the years," Dagonet shrugged.

"You should hear the servants talking," Galahad laughed, slapping his knee. "Half the Romans think she's Satan's mistress and the other half his daughter. The Britons think she's the Horned God's child."

Arthur frowned. "Isn't he one of their most important gods?"

"Aye," Brenna said suddenly. No one had noticed her come in. "The Hunter, we call him. The Britons don't fear her. They think he's sent her to set Britain to rights."

"Really," Arthur murmured, frowning at her.

Codi didn't like the way her commander was looking at her. Resisting the urge to back up, she looked up at him.

"What?" she asked bluntly. "Surely you don't believe I'm Satan's mistress."

"No," Arthur replied. "But I am concerned about what the Britons will think of a savior who fights for Romans."

"I don't fight for Rome," Codi said sharply. "I fight for you. There's a difference."

"Maybe so, but I doubt the Britons will see it that way," Arthur told her.

"You leave that to me," Brenna said firmly. "Codi won't have any trouble from our end."

"Codi won't have trouble from either end," Bors declared. "These Romans are scared shitless. And if any of 'em try anything fishy, she can tear an arm off."

"Speaking of which," Codi remarked. "I'm hungry enough to do just that. Lancelot dragged me out here before I could eat."

"Sorry," Lancelot said, abashed.

"Daft cow," Tristan admonished her. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"I didn't notice," Codi shrugged.

"Horsefeathers. I know for a fact that your stomach in particular is impossible to ignore. You're simply stubborn and hardheaded--"

"Tristan, I'm not dying. I'm just a little hungry, that's all--"

"It's your fist day out of bed and your running around with no food in your belly? What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? I'm not made of glass, you know."

"You're hands are shaking."

"No, they're not."

"Don't argue. You're going to get in bed and eat some soup."

"I'm sick of soup!"

"--thick as pigshit--"

"You're so _stupid_--"

"--going to get yourself killed one day--"

"Oh, come off it!"

They were still arguing in this manner as Tristan towed Codi away. The knights all looked at each other sheepishly. They had all forgotten that their lady knight had been at death's door less than a week before. She probably should never have gotten out of bed.

Galahad scratched his head, gazing after the pair thoughtfully. "You know what would be funny?"

"What?" Gawain asked.

"If Tristan and Codi had babies."

"_What_?"

"Can you imagine? Codi's personality with Tristan's looks. Now _there_'_s_ your child of Satan."

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I'm sooooooo sorry for the long wait, but I had a huge, huge writer's block. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out, just so you all know. so savor it, duckies, and be prepared for a long wait. I really should have waited until the whole thing was finished to start posting because I tend to get bored with stories and leave them for ages and ages and ages. But anyway.


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